I Might Just Trust You, Maybe
by TheDoctorsCompanion13
Summary: Soul Mate AU. As it turns out, Will Graham and Dr. Frederick Chilton are soul mates. Will outright rejects the idea at the start, but the bond formed between them seems to bring them closer together against his own common sense.
1. Chapter 1

The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane set Will on edge. Anyone and anything involving psychology had a habit of setting him on edge. He worried that he would be examined, poked and prodded, have his brain exposed for the world to see. He steered clear when he could, but if Jack needed him, he could hardly say no. So, as he walked the halls to meet the man in charge of the place, he kept his eyes down, using his glasses as a shield between him and the facility.

After a quick once over as Chilton invited them inside the room, he could tell that the man lived under a blanket of false pride and self-confidence. He liked to think that he was better than everyone he came into contact with. Will saw arrogance, envy, ambition, and self-loathing. He instantly disliked him but almost wanted to feel bad for him if it weren't for all of his terrible personality flaws.

Once they were in the room with the door closed, Dr. Chilton turned to Will with curiosity in his eyes as he held out his hand. "Dr. Bloom just called me about you, Mr. Graham," he began as Will accepted his offer of a handshake. Once their hands touched, Will felt a mild burning sensation on his palm. Based on Chilton's expression and the wavering way he finished his sentence, Will could tell he felt it too. "Or should I call you… Dr.… Graham?"

"I'm, um, not a doctor," Will said as he quickly withdrew his hand.

In unison, they both stared down at their palms to see a pair of interlocking circles branded onto their flesh. Will stepped back looking from his hand to the man before him and he slowly shook his head. Dr. Frederick Chilton, however, seemed transfixed by the mark on his hand, his face entirely unreadable. Will might've thought he was in shock if he hadn't been working through the denial that screamed in his head.

"Well, this is… awkward," Frederick said evenly.

"No. No, this is. No," Will said, looking at a bewildered Jack as if he could do something to reverse it.

Jack knew exactly what it meant as he had the mark on his own hand because it had appeared after meeting his wife Bella. Soul mates. The process starts with a brand and then a bond is formed, connecting their minds, allowing them to sense each other's emotions. As soul mates get to know each other, the bond deepens, allowing them to see and feel more about the other person. And the brands are binding, tying the victims to their intended forever, or at least that's how Will saw it. He saw himself as a victim.

Will closed his hand into a fist and looked up at Frederick Chilton, internally blaming him for what happened. Frederick stared back at him, bemused and intrigued. Will clenched his teeth and shook his head.

"Let's get this over with and get out," he said, turning his attention to Jack as if he could ignore Frederick all together.

Jack looked between Will and Frederick and chose not to say a word, which Will appreciated. Instead, they both stood by the door until Frederick finally understood and wordlessly led them out to the crime scene. After Will viewed the body and stated his deductions, he rushed to leave the building. Even Frederick, who Will imagined would've been trying to make his case for Gideon as the Ripper the whole time, hadn't said much of anything. He had taken to staring at Will oddly while Will actively avoided looking him in the eye.

Once they were nearly outside, Frederick tried to stop Will. "Mr. Graham! Will!"

Will felt a strong but brief pang of interest and desperation causing him to want to turn around but he ignored it. He shook the feelings from his head and left the building with Jack in tow and didn't stop until they reached Jack's car. He leaned on the passenger's side door and opened up the hand he'd been keeping clenched into a fist, staring at the design on his palm. He thought about Frederick, how much he wanted nothing to do with him, and was seized with involuntary sadness. Rather than deal with it, he pushed it away and climbed into the car, slamming the door behind him.

Jack joined him soon after, sitting for a moment rather than starting the car. "I don't particularly want anything to do with your love life—"

"Good, then you should probably stop there," Will interjected, but Jack continued anyway.

"—but don't you think you were a little harsh?"

"Just drive," Will snapped, keeping his gaze out of the window. He spotted Frederick in his office window, sitting at his desk appearing dejected as he stared at his hand, and he immediately chose to stare straight ahead when the engine roared to life.

* * *

Once back at home, the first thing Will did was wash his hands. He scrubbed that palm of his right hand until the skin turned red and stung but it did nothing to the black mark burned there. After a few minutes he gave up and retired to his living room where he laid down on his bed with the dogs. Buster nudged his head under Will's hand and he absently pet him feeling a sense of serene contentment and he wondered if Frederick could feel it too.

A part of him hoped that he did because he seemed like it was a feeling he needed, but another part of him felt like it was an intrusion. He had another person in his head, sensing his private emotions. He stopped petting Buster and looked at the mark again, curious as to if he could cut it away with his hunting knife before actually considering the consequences of that act. He sighed heavily and dropped his arm down onto the bed. He'd never wanted to find his soul mate. He didn't want to deal with it and he'd been perfectly fine on his own with the dogs.

On top of everything, he didn't even know much about Dr. Chilton other than the few things Jack told him and what he gleaned through his empathy. He rubbed his eyes, trying to quell the headache forming there. He felt a pang of sympathy, not his own feelings but a response to them. Will groaned, radiating irritation as he shoved a pillow over his face, wishing he could turn it all off. The idea that even his home life was no longer sacred made him feel angry and miserable.

Will removed the pillow and looked down at the dog at his side. "What do you think, Buster? Should I go check this guy out tomorrow?"

Buster perked his ears up and whined, prompting Will to nod his head as if he knew what that meant.

"Yeah, I might as well. If he's going to be in my head for… god, forever, I should know more about him."

Will rubbed at his eyes again, choosing to go to bed and hoping that the unconsciousness of sleep would block Frederick out. He also resolved to call Alana the next day to find out what she knew about the man.

* * *

The next morning, Will woke up feeling refreshed from a dreamless sleep. He rolled out of bed, showered, and dressed in order to get ready for a day at the Quantico FBI Academy and it was all so peaceful that he nearly forgot about the soul mate business. However, as he was making breakfast for himself, he felt stress that didn't belong to him. Luckily, it faded after a few minutes but the experience toppled his previously good mood.

After eating a light breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee, Will headed out, arriving at the Academy just in time for his first lecture. Throughout it, he made a point of keeping his right hand in his pocket or flat on his desk so that his students wouldn't notice the mark. It managed to go by smoothly without interruption and once the class left, he found himself with a mostly free hour. He headed to his office but kept the lights off so he wouldn't be interrupted by inquiring students and called Alana.

"Will, hello," Alana said, sounding surprised as she picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Will said, leaning back in his desk chair.

"Not at the moment. What's going on?" she said, curiosity seeping into her tone.

Will frowned, briefly wondering if Frederick would be able to tell what he was doing based on his emotions alone. "I was just wondering what you know about Dr. Chilton."

"I take it you had an interesting experience with him yesterday," Alana said, sounding amused.

"Interesting is one word for it," he said before swapping the phone to his left hand so he could look at his palm.

"Well, he's not the worst person in the field. He's keeping the hospital going," Alana said in a way that Will could sense the smile in her tone.

"That's reassuring," Will sighed, dropping his hand onto the desk. He couldn't say he was surprised that he wasn't particularly respected.

"Why? Are you planning on changing therapists?" Alana said, suddenly sounding concerned.

"No, no. Just curious," Will said, wondering if Hannibal knew anything about him.

"To be honest, he's a bit of a joke to a lot of people in the field. I don't think he's as bad as everyone says, but he earned himself a bit of a reputation after he left the medical field to avoid embarrassment. Let's just say he's a better psychiatrist than a doctor."

"Do you know anything else?" Will said, wanting to know more about his personal life than his professional one.

"I'm afraid not. I don't know anyone who's that close with him," Alana said, starting to sound rushed. "Listen, Will, I have to head out for an appointment. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Sorry I didn't have more for you. Bye."

"Bye."

Will returned his cell phone to his pocket, left mostly alone with his thoughts with the exception of the knot of stress at the back of his mind that had been building throughout the day. Will knew Frederick had a lot to deal with in regards to the Abel Gideon case and he felt a little pity for him, even if Will slightly blamed him for the lax security that resulted in the nurse's death. He tried to put it all out of his mind as he turned on the light in his office and sat back down to grade some papers.

* * *

At the end of the day, he headed to Baltimore for his weekly appointment with Hannibal, leaving a little early just to be sure that he'd be on time. He stood in the waiting room for a few minutes until Hannibal finally opened the door, allowing him inside. After over a month of attending sessions with Hannibal, the novelty of the lavish room had worn off and he hardly saw all of the priceless trinkets and artwork around the room. All he really noticed was Hannibal and the two chairs they sat down in.

"Will, it's good to see you," Hannibal said as he shut the door behind Will. "Please, sit down."

Will nodded and complied, sitting down in one of the black chairs. Hannibal joined him by sitting in the one across from him. Will hardly noticed as he was looking down at his hand, tracing the mark with his thumb. He didn't notice Hannibal staring at him, examining him with mild irritation in his eyes.

"Something on your mind, Will?" Hannibal said, disturbing the silence.

"Hm?" Will said, snapping out of his reverie. "No, nothing…"

Hannibal frowned just enough for it to be noticeable. "Did something happen that you don't wish to discuss?"

Will glanced down at his hand again before he sighed. "Yeah, something did."

"We don't have to talk about it but it might be good for you if you did," Hannibal said, his expression always unreadable unless he wanted it to be read. Will had noticed that about him.

Will glanced down at his hand and up at Hannibal before he held it out for him to see. Hannibal's eyes widened fractionally as shifted to the very edge of his seat and reached out, gently holding Will's hand in his own. He tilted it down for a better look and his expression hardened as his eyes traced the brand. Will frowned, confused as Hannibal seemed to hold onto his hand for a little longer than necessary. Hannibal seemed to realize it too as he abruptly let go and sat back, trying to distance himself.

"So, you found your soul mate," Hannibal said a little coldly.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Will said, bringing his hand back to his body, keeping it palm down on his stomach.

"You feel negatively about it?" Hannibal said, though Will could tell he knew the answer.

"I certainly don't feel good. I… ugh, I just never wanted this. I didn't want to fall prey to this trap. I don't need complications like this in my life," Will said, feeling all of his emotions and complaints he kept down bubble up.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Will. Would you like to talk about your problems with this person?" Hannibal said, sitting forward in his chair again.

Will stared down at the hands in his lap, thinking about Frederick when he suddenly felt worried for no reason. He shook it off, feeling bitter once again about the intrusion to his mind. "What do you know about Dr. Frederick Chilton?"

Hannibal stiffened, the muscles in his jaw working. "Dr. Chilton? He's who you're bound to?"

"That's him. You know him?"

"I know a little," Hannibal said, still frozen in place. He sat back a moment later, relaxing as he made eye contact with Will. "He runs the Baltimore State Hospital, yes?"

Will nodded. "It's where we met. Working this Abel Gideon case. Chilton thinks Gideon is the Ripper, but he isn't. It's obvious."

The edges of Hannibal's lips turned up slightly for a moment. "You don't seem like a very good fit, I wonder why the two of you were bonded."

"Yeah, I've been wondering that myself. He's in my head all the time and I hate it." Will's irritation flared up and he felt a timid, apologetic reply. He dropped his head into his hands, guilt striking him hard.

"What is it, Will?" Hannibal said, the sound of his voice barely reaching his ears.

"Nothing, I just keep blaming him but it's not his fault. It's not really anyone's fault, I guess," Will said, bringing his head back up so he could see Hannibal as he spoke to him.

"No, it is just how the world works," Hannibal agreed. "If you like, I could look into him for you. I have more connections in the psychological community, I can gather a basic profile."

Will smiled briefly. "Thank you, Hannibal, but no. Maybe I should just talk to him myself. Face the music, as it were."

"If you think that's best," Hannibal said.

"I have no idea, but it seems the most direct route," Will sighed. "I'll let you know how it goes."

Hannibal nodded before changing the subject back to the case Will was currently working on. The rest of their session passed by in a blur and soon Will was back in his car, on his way home. He felt exhausted as he parked and greeted his dogs at the door, letting them out since they'd been cooped up inside all day. He grabbed a beer from his fridge and sat out on the porch to keep an eye on them as the moon light and porch light lit up his yard.

He tried to relax and unwind, but after about ten minutes of sitting outside, he felt a trickle of emotions leak into his head. Sadness, self-hatred, anxiety. It started off slow and faint but it quickly turned up until he felt it all so strongly that he wasn't entirely sure what feelings were and weren't his. After a few minutes his head started to hurt from the assault and it took him a while to realize that Frederick was drunk and not in control of what he felt.

Will laughed at the realization and held up his half empty beer in a toast before he drained the rest of it and stood up to grab another. He stopped trying to block out Frederick's emotions and just let them in, let them wash over him. They almost felt like a drug as he felt things he never let himself feel. He joined Frederick, drinking a few more beers until he was sure Frederick was experiencing the same barrage. Eventually, Frederick's emotions turned around, hopeful feelings that filled Will with warmth.

After an hour or so of drinking, Will called the dogs back and they all retired inside. He changed out of his clothes and lay down in his bed as he closed his eyes. He decided that, in that moment, he liked the feeling of another person inside his head. He'd been drunk enough times to know that it felt better when he wasn't drunk alone and he could tell that Frederick felt the same. He fell into a deep, drunken sleep not long after, a mix of emotions swirling around that were and weren't from his own mind.

The next day was a day off for him, no classes, no calls from Jack as of yet. The morning passed into noon with an air of peace as he chose to spend his free time working on a broken boat engine for an acquaintance at the Academy. All the while, he felt a dull throb of anxiety just under the surface of his peace but he was starting to get used to the intrusion of Frederick's emotions. They became a low buzz of background noise in his head.

When he was nearly done with the engine, the nervous energy at the back of his mind erupted into a flood until he could feel his own heart pounding hard against his ribs. Will dropped his tools and pressed a hand to his chest, breathing a little too hard as a wave of nausea swept over him. He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Frederick was doing to make him feel so terrible. Will sat up, his back leaning against the end of his bed, curled up with his knees to his chest, hoping the feeling would pass soon.

Before it had the chance, his dogs suddenly became alert, barking at seemingly nothing as they gathered around the door. Will strained to hear what they were hearing but didn't understand until someone rang his doorbell. He struggled to his feet, the nervousness in his mind hitting its peak as he walked over and threw the door open to see Frederick standing there.

He was dressed in an expensive-looking dark blue suit, his hair perfectly combed, with small bouquet of assorted flowers strangled in the tight grip of his right hand. It was such an amusing sight that he forgot all of the transferred anxiety and cracked a smile. He quickly covered it up with his right hand as he leaned against the doorway, drinking the sight in until the dogs realized the door was open and bounded out to greet the new, interesting person.

Frederick jumped back a little as the pack of dogs ran out to greet him. They looked ready to jump on him but Will quelled that urge with a single noise command after seeing the worry in Frederick's eyes. Instead, they calmly sniffed him, curious of the new scents, and nipped a little at the flowers. Frederick moved the flowers out of their reach but a few of them had already lost a good number of petals.

"I'm sorry," Frederick said, looking down at the pathetic display as if he just realized what he was holding. "I don't know what I'm doing."

He turned away to leave and Will could feel his embarrassment. "Frederick, wait. Why don't you come inside? I've been meaning to call you."

Frederick paused and turned back, staring hard at Will as if trying to read his intentions. He frowned and conceded, walking back across the porch and through the open doorway. Will beckoned the dogs back in and shut the door, turning around to see Frederick surveying his surroundings. Will watched as he looked over the dog beds, the chairs, the books, and Will's own bed all set up in the living room. He seemed to forget himself until Winston snatched the flowers from his hand. He panicked, trying to grab them back, but Winston dodged him.

"Hey, Winston," Will scolded, calling the dog to him. Winston dropped the flowers into Will's hand and Will looked them over. Roses, carnations, baby's breath. Will found it endearing. "Thank you for these."

Frederick glanced down at his feet for a moment before straightening his posture. He tried to recover an air of confidence. "You're welcome."

"Um, have a seat anywhere. Do you want anything to drink?" Will said, remembering his manners.

"No, thank you," Frederick said, finding a chair to sit in and unbuttoning his jacket.

Will set down the flowers, cleaned up his scattered tools, and moved his toolbox and nearly finished engine to one of the kitchen counters, the dogs following him all the while. When he returned to the living room, he sat in a chair across from Frederick, feeling unsure and awkward. Silence hung over the two of them for a moment, neither of them knowing how to break it.

"I'm sorry about what happened the other day," Will began, finding his courage first. "I didn't handle myself very well and I blamed you for something that wasn't your fault."

Frederick nodded, glancing down at his right palm. "It's… it's okay. I never expected to find my soul mate either and while I didn't anticipate such a vehement rejection, I can't say I blame you."

Will frowned, feeling Frederick's sadness and his own guilt. "I wouldn't call it a rejection. I was… surprised."

"And disappointed," Frederick said. A statement because he knew it as fact. He'd felt it.

"Disappointed because I prefer my solitude, not because of you. I'm sorry," Will said, sitting forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

"It's okay, Will. To be fair, if you'd known what I was thinking about you before all of this occurred, I wouldn't have been too pleased to be bonded with me either," Frederick said sheepishly.

Will's worry and curiosity rose. "What were you thinking?"

"That you'd be an interesting subject of study," Frederick replied, being compliant and forthcoming. "What you do, it would make for quite the piece in psychological journals."

Will tensed and frowned, reexamining Frederick. "I'd rather not be the subject of any study while I'm still around to know about it."

"I have no such intentions now," Frederick said, quick to make amends. "Though, I am admittedly still curious, it's a professional curiosity that I have put far away. I don't want to make things between us any worse."

Will nodded and stood up, crossing the floor until he stood at a half-way point. He held out his branded hand to Frederick. "Let's try this again."

Frederick hesitated but stood up to meet him, clasping Will's hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Will Graham. Professor at the FBI Academy in Quantico and occasional boat mechanic," he said, shaking his hand.

"I'm Dr. Frederick Chilton. Head of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and part time wine enthusiast," he replied with a smirk. "It's good to meet you too."

Will smiled at him, holding onto his hand for a moment or two longer than necessary. Soon he let go, dropping his hand back to his side, feeling awkward again but for a different reason. The man before him was his _soul mate. _The implications of that hadn't quite hit him until that moment. For some reason, the universe decided that he and Frederick were made to be together and he was in the process of figuring out why.

"Are you hungry? I haven't stopped to have lunch yet if you wanted to get something," Will offered, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

Frederick looked and felt surprised at the offer. "Oh, thank you. But I should be getting back. There's a lot of work to be done."

Will nodded and flashed a smile. "I understand."

"But I'll take a rain check. Maybe dinner sometime this week?" Frederick said eagerly.

"Yeah, sure. I'll give you my number."

Frederick pulled out his light blue iPhone from his jacket pocket and handed it to Will who input his number. Their fingers brushed when he handed it back but they both pretended not to notice. They said their goodbyes and Will showed Frederick out, watching from the window as he pulled out of the driveway in his shiny, vintage car. Once he was out of sight, Will turned to his dogs.

"What do you guys think?"

They all barked at him in response and he nodded.

"Yeah, I think so too."


	2. Chapter 2

The next couple of days passed as they normally would've, both Frederick and Will with lighter moods than before. Will still kept his mark hidden at all times, but he didn't feel any animosity toward it anymore. It was a part of him and he accepted that. He even found himself stroking it with his thumb absently in times of boredom. Then one afternoon, not long before his second lecture of the day, he received a phone call from Frederick.

"Hello," Will said, oddly pleased to hear from him.

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" he said. He felt both confident and emboldened, Will could tell.

"Where and when?" Will said, checking the time as he walked to the lecture hall.

"It's a surprise. I'll pick you up at eight?"

Will smiled. "All right. Eight works. I'll see you then."

"See you then," Frederick replied, a smile in his tone as well.

Will tucked his phone away and proceeded to give a surprisingly upbeat lecture on profiling psychopathic behavior. He arrived home fairly late that night, bordering on seven, and started to get ready for dinner after letting out and feeding the dogs. He tried and failed to tame his unruly curls before dressing in the nicest pants and shirt he owned, which by the standards of people with a lot of money weren't that nice. He couldn't tell if he was trying too hard or not hard enough.

In the end, he threw on a blazer over his shirt and tried not to get it all too covered in dog fur as he waited for Frederick to arrive. He still didn't know that much about him, but he supposed that was the point of dates. He hadn't been on too many in his lifetime and most of those didn't end especially well. As time edged closer to eight, he started to feel nervous and he couldn't tell who the nerves belonged to.

A few minutes after eight, he was fidgeting with his clothes as he waited in one of his chairs with a book he wasn't actually reading. He started to worry until he felt a prickle in his mind that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He looked to the door and stood up at the same time as the dogs before walking over to it and opening it. Frederick wasn't even out of the car yet as Will left the house to greet him, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Frederick," Will said as he crossed his driveway to meet him at the car door. He wore a nice black suit with a red paisley tie. Will felt woefully out of place with him.

"Will," Frederick replied with a smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I intended to be here a little early but I hit some traffic."

"It's all right," Will said, flashing a brief smile. "So, where are we headed? I hope I'm not underdressed."

Frederick gave him a quick onceover and a flash of something, lust or arousal, heated Will's mind. It required considerable effort on Will's part not to blush. "It's still a surprise and you look great."

"Thanks. Uh, so do you," Will replied, feeling like he was an awkward teenager again.

Will dropped his eye contact, unsure of what to say or do next. He felt tempted to slip his glasses on, which he kept in his jacket pocket in case of emergency, but he didn't. Not yet anyway.

"Why don't we head out?" Frederick said, sensing the unease and trying to subvert it.

Will nodded and smiled, walking around and sliding into the passenger's seat. The seats were a pristine black leather, unmarked or scuffed. The floors were devoid of dirt, at least until Will set his feet down on the black mat, and the dark wooden dashboard looked perfectly polished. If his car looked so neat, Will could hardly imagine what his house looked like. He buckled himself in as Frederick did the same and soon they were on the road, silence hanging over them once again.

"This is a really nice car," Will said off-handedly as he glanced around the perfectly clean interior once more.

Frederick smiled. "She is. You know a lot about cars?"

Will shook his head. "I'm more of a boat person. I know the basics, oil changes and the like, but I'm not sure how I would fare with anything more serious."

"I'm the same way. I know enough to fix the minor problems and luckily I haven't had to take her to a mechanic in a long time," Frederick said, looking quite proud of himself.

Will felt surprised and Frederick could sense it as his expression turned quizzical. "You fix your own car?"

"I do. I would rather do things myself when I can," Frederick said.

Trust issues, Will thought. He knew them well.

"Why is that so surprising?" Frederick wondered, glancing over at Will for a moment.

"You seem like you have the money to be able to hire anyone to do anything for you," Will said bluntly.

Frederick nodded. "That is absolutely true and I used to think that way before I had all the money. It's better to save it when you can. Money, like any resource, can easily run out."

Will stared at him, his curiosity increasing. He could only compare him in his mind to Hannibal, who spent his wealth on extravagancies all the time. He was always buying artwork, expensive and rare foods, which made Will wonder why Frederick was so different. Will flushed and turned to look out of the windshield when he realized Frederick was returning his stare with confused glances.

"That isn't to say I don't spend money on luxuries. I'm self-aware, not stingy," Frederick said with a smirk. "Wait until you see my house."

Will tried to imagine it but he kept thinking of different variations on Hannibal's home and he felt sure it wouldn't look quite like that. He glanced over at Frederick again, wondering what other interpretations about him he had gotten wrong. He knew he hadn't gotten everything wrong. He could see that he was a self-serving man but also a lonely one, a fate designed by himself and the way he was raised, Will imagined.

"What is it?" Frederick asked, finally noticing Will surveying him again.

"Just wondering what I don't know about you," Will replied, daring to catch his eye for a second.

"Ah, yes. That thing you do," Frederick said with a smile. "I keep forgetting about that. Well, I imagine you know more about me than I of you in that case"

"That's what I thought too," Will said, turning his attention back to the road.

A few minutes later, Frederick pulled up in front of a fancy-looking restaurant, a place Will would likely drive by and never consider stopping there. He frowned at the polished and glassy building and then at Frederick who was unbuckling his seatbelt. Will followed suit, feeling uncomfortable about it but he didn't want to back out. He slipped out of the expensive car and fixed his blazer as he looked up at the restaurant as if it were a looming, intimidating presence.

"Are you okay?" Frederick asked as he shut his door and walked around to meet him.

"I cannot afford this place," Will managed to say as he gaped at the frosted glass doors.

Frederick grinned as he placed a hand on the small of Will's back. "Then it's a good thing I'm paying."

Frederick dropped his keys off with a young valet out front before they walked in together. Will tried to absorb the details of the wood paneled walls and the plush dark red carpet but it all felt overwhelming. The maître d' checked for their reservation and led them to a table for two by a window. The square wooden table was polished so well that Will could see his reflection and a small, shielded candle burned between them. They were left with menus for both food and wine and Will had no idea what to do with either as he felt so inundated.

He looked around to see women in beautiful dresses and men in their finest suits. Will looked down at his own clothes and felt like a neon sign in the darkness. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses before slipping them on.

"Will," Frederick said, breaking Will out of his own mind. He looked up and met his hazel eyes. "It's okay. You look good. Honestly."

"And I thought I was the one with empathetic powers," Will said with an almost pained smile.

"Unfortunately you have to share now. But I hope you come to not mind sharing it with me," Frederick said, appearing almost vulnerable for half a second.

Will smiled and nodded. "I hope so too."

Frederick dropped his eyes to the menu and Will did the same, looking over the French meal names as though he were in a daze. When it came to food like that, he was used to Hannibal just setting a plate down in front of him. No choice necessary. He looked up to Frederick for help like a man drowning in the ocean. Frederick caught his eye and flashed a reassuring smile just as a bubbly-looking young waitress with dark hair approached their table.

"Are you gentlemen prepared to order?" she asked with a patient smile.

"We'll have the canard à l'orange with a bottle of your finest pinot noir, please," Frederick said politely as he gathered up his and Will's menus to hand her.

She accepted the menus with a slight bow. "Right away."

Will exhaled as soon as she was out of earshot and he realized he'd been holding his breath because of the stress he felt from the situation. He rubbed at his eyes under his glasses before leaning back in his chair. He felt the sympathy and concern that Frederick had for him before he saw it in his eyes.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Frederick said with a slight frown.

"No, I'm fine. It's just… unfamiliar territory," Will said.

"I probably should've worked up to this. I'm sorry, Will."

"Frederick, I swear it's fine. It's a really nice place, I was just momentarily overwhelmed. Maybe next time, though, I'll make something for you," Will said with a smile.

Frederick's eyes and emotions brightened. "There's already a next time?"

"You made a distinct first impression. And it's not because of the extravagant meal, though I'm sure it's delicious."

Frederick flushed a little at that; Will could feel it even though he couldn't really see it. The waitress returned with the bottle of wine, pouring it out into their glasses before leaving the bottle on the table. She disappeared again after to wait on a nearby table as Frederick took a sip of the wine.

"So, tell me about your work. There are so many different facets to it that it's hard to pin you down," Frederick said as he set down the glass.

Will nodded in agreement. "Well, I like to think I'm foremost a teacher but working as a special agent for the FBI has seemed to consume a lot of my time recently. Jack has even taken to interrupting my classes on occasion, which I understand but also find it a little irritating."

"I can see why. You're also a boat mechanic?"

Will laughed a little. "I wouldn't call that a job, more of a hobby. I fix other people's boats for some extra cash occasionally. It all just goes toward the bills or groceries."

"Do you have any free time for yourself with all that you do?" Frederick asked, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

Will shrugged. "I would just rather keep busy. What about you? Being the head of a hospital for the criminally insane must be time consuming."

"It has its drawbacks, the hours being one of them, but I find it to be an intellectually stimulating environment." He shrugged and broke out in a grin. "The pay's not half bad either."

Will felt tempted to ask about Abel Gideon and his murder of one of the hospital's nurses but he held his tongue. He knew it wasn't the time or the place even if it was his job to find out. Instead, they chatted on a little more about their work until the food arrived, which both looked and tasted delicious. He started to relax and enjoy himself and the wine was certainly a part of that. He felt a light buzz in his brain from the alcohol that he knew Frederick could feel too.

Not long after they finished eating, the check arrived. Frederick immediately snatched it up and Will felt curious about the price, though he was also sure it would make him feel ill. Frederick paid for the meal with a card but he left a fifty dollar tip on the table. Even though his senses were dulled, Will could still feel that Frederick felt a little nervous as they stood up to leave.

"You okay?" Will asked, trying to be reassuring as they exited the restaurant.

Frederick smiled and nodded. "I'm good. Did you have a good time?"

Frederick's anxiety spiked and Will understood. He was still worried about the impression he was making, worried that Will would reject him again, like all the others. "I had a great time," he said as genuinely as possible.

He felt Frederick relax a little and smiled. They walked back to the valet, who quickly retrieved Frederick's car, and buckled themselves in before Frederick set out on the road once more. A more companionable silence filled the car on their way back, a comfortable one, allowing either to speak when they thought of something to say.

"I hope this isn't a touchy subject but why so many dogs?" Frederick said, glancing over at him.

Will laughed, a warm sound that filled the space and caused Frederick to smile. "I just have a habit of collecting strays, I guess. I take home dogs I see abandoned on the roads."

"That's kind of… endearing," Frederick replied. "I never had a pet before."

"I had one dog as a child. I just find them easier to be around than people. They're simpler," Will said, looking out of the passenger's side window. "But if you're interested in a part-time pet, my dogs seem to have taken a shine to you."

"I don't know if I can cope with all of the dog hair but I'll keep it in mind," Frederick said with a smile.

When they reached Will's home, Frederick parked the car and stepped out to walk Will to his door. He hesitated on the porch as Will unlocked his front door and let the dogs outside. They swarmed around Frederick again and he reached down and pet one with the demeanor of a man trying to pet a poisonous snake. Will hid his smile behind a hand as Frederick went around petting each one in turn as if the offering might appease them. Will shooed them off after a minute, leaving the two of them on their own.

"I had a good time, Frederick. Better than I thought I would," Will said.

"I did too. Hopefully we can do this again sometime soon," Frederick replied, his nerves rising again.

Will could feel a heat flaring in his brain, a feeling of desire and hesitance radiating from Frederick. He noticed Frederick's hands fidgeting with his jacket. "Yes, definitely soon. I'll call you."

"Great," Frederick said, looking from Will to his car, unsure of what to do.

Will couldn't help but want to put him out of his awkward misery as he stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the side of Frederick's face and pulling him into a short, soft kiss. The contact caused his head to swim, a rush of both of their emotions, their minds, blending together. Frederick didn't have time to figure out what to do with his hands before Will pulled away, leaving him surprised and breathless.

"I'll talk to you soon, Frederick," Will said with a smile as he stepped inside his house.

"Yeah, soon," Frederick whispered back, standing on the porch as though stupefied for a long moment before he turned and left.

Will watched him leave from the window and settled down in a chair after he was gone. A fast flutter settled in his chest that belonged to Frederick, a dazed infatuation. He thought about how much he didn't know about him, how much he wanted to know, how much he was afraid to know. Frederick Chilton had some hand in the Abel Gideon case and he knew it wasn't pleasant, yet he couldn't stop himself from liking him at least a little. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, deciding he would deal with that issue when it arose.

* * *

Frederick thought about their kiss a lot over the next couple of days and Will knew full well each time as he was overwhelmed with a heat that consumed his body. It was what he imagined a hot flash might be like except there was some enjoyment along with his own personal discomfort. He was blessed with good luck on the timing as well as he hadn't yet been interrupted during any of his lectures or his conversations with colleagues.

He felt flattered by it but also a little guilty as he didn't quite feel the same yet. He found that developing sexual attraction required time with him. Time and trust. However, Will did feel eager to go on a second date. He planned to call him that weekend and set up a dinner date at his home and he even had a recipe he found on the internet picked out for fresh salmon. The thought of their future date is what was on his mind as he walked through the halls of the FBI Academy to reach his office when his phone rang.

He checked the screen to see Jack's number before accepting the call. "Hello?"

"I'd like you and Dr. Bloom to stop by the Baltimore hospital and interview Abel Gideon to see if either of you can examine the plausibility of Dr. Chilton's claim," he said, getting right to the point as usual.

"Um, sure. When?"

"Today if you have the time."

Will checked his watch, seeing that he had his final lecture in less than two hours. "I don't know. I might be able to work it in. I'll call Alana and figure out a time."

"Let me know what you find out," Jack said before hanging up the phone.

Will sighed and kept the phone in his hand until he was in his office with the door closed. As soon as he sat down at his desk, he dialed Alana's number and waited for her to pick up.

"Hello," she said with a smile in her tone. "Calling about Jack's task for us?"

"I am indeed. Are you free at all today or tomorrow?" Will replied, messing with a pen on his desk with his free hand.

"I'm free now if you are."

Will wanted to sigh but he kept it in. He was always compromising his own hours for the sake of these cases but at least he was saving lives. "I'm free. I'll leave in a minute and meet you there?"

"Sounds good to me. See you then," she said cheerily.

"See you."

He hung up his phone and sent out an email to his students saying that their class would be cancelled. Then he left, locking his office and walking out to his vehicle. Once he was in the driver's seat with the engine running, he called Frederick in order to warn him about the impending visit.

"Will?" Frederick said as he answered his phone.

"Dr. Bloom and I are coming up in order to interview Gideon," Will said as he pulled out of his parking spot, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear.

"Yes, Jack Crawford called me about that earlier," he said, not sounding or feeling entirely pleased about it.

"I'm sorry but you know we have to investigate this," Will replied. "I don't particularly enjoy it myself."

"I know, I understand," Frederick said with a sigh.

"But I'm calling about our… relationship. Alana doesn't know and I'd prefer it if it stayed that way for now."

Will flinched as he felt Frederick was a little hurt by the comment. "Yes, okay. I can do that. See you when you get here."

Frederick hung up and Will let the phone drop into his lap. Frustration and guilt flared up and quickly died down. He couldn't deal with that as he was driving or when he was with Alana so he stored it away for another time. He focused on the road in front of him and didn't think about anything other than that until he met up with Alana at the hospital.

She was waiting for him at the steps and she smiled when he stepped out to meet her. At the last minute, he remembered to keep the palm of his right hand out of sight and kept his fingers curled and his hand close to his thigh.

"It's good to see you," Alana said as they walked up the stairs and entered the building.

"You too. It would be better under happier circumstances but I'll take what I can get," Will said with a smile.

Will pulled his glasses from his pocket as they climbed the stairs and slipped them on more out of pretense than need. It would seem odd to Alana if he weren't wearing them in front of Frederick. He tried to get himself to relax as Alana spoke with Frederick's secretary, a young man with short blonde hair and a slightly shabby brown suit. He checked in with Frederick before letting them into his office.

"Dr. Bloom, Mr. Graham. Welcome. Please, have a seat," Frederick said, putting on a bright smile as he motioned toward the two chairs in front of his desk, though he kept the palm of his right hand out of sight. Alana complied but Will chose to keep his distance.

"Thank you, Dr. Chilton," Alana said as she sat down. All Will offered was a solemn nod.

Will felt a brief sting of hurt again, though it was quickly extinguished. He wanted to apologize more than anything but he couldn't with Alana there. Instead, he hovered by the window as she did most of the talking.

"So, you wish to speak with Dr. Gideon. Will you be conducting a joint interview?" Frederick asked as he sat down at his desk.

"Separate. I'll compare and contrast," Alana said, glancing up at Will.

"Dr. Bloom, you've had dealings with Gideon in the past. He's had _a lot _to say about the time he spent with you," Frederick said, keeping his expression pleasant while sounding decidedly less so.

Will shot Frederick a warning look over Alana's shoulder but he pretended to not see it.

"I spoke with him twice, but I mostly saw him in court. I wrote an article about him in the Journal of Criminal Psychology," Alana replied politely.

Frederick smiled wider and stood up from his chair, walking over to the shelves behind his desk. "Yes, I have your notes on him," he said as he plucked a file from the shelves and returned to his chair. He glanced through the file as he spoke. "They've been more or less helpful as I conducted my own interviews with Dr. Gideon over the years."

Alana smiled. "Well, I'm glad I was helpful."

"More or less," Will said, staring icily at Frederick as he moved to stand beside her.

Alana shot him a brief look as Frederick set the open file down on the desk with his right hand. Frederick realized his mistake a little too late, curling his hand into a fist as Alana's eyes widened slightly.

"What's that?" she said, pointing at his hand.

Will could feel Frederick's panic as he floundered for words. "Uh, it's just… ink. On my hand. Fountain pen must've leaked, I'll clean that up in a minute," he said as he looked down at his hand, shielding the mark from Alana's view.

Alana narrowed her eyes at him but let the matter slide. "I guess I'll go first," she said as she gathered up her things and left the room.

Once she was well away from Frederick's office, they both relaxed, at least for a moment. When they looked at each other a frigid silence settled around them.

"What was that all about?" Will chastised.

Frederick shrugged as he flipped his file on Gideon closed. "What was what?"

"Being such an ass to Alana. What did she do to you?" Will didn't pause to allow him to answer the question. "I know you have self-esteem issues but that is no excuse to take it out on someone else."

Frederick's mouth turned into a hard, thin line as Will felt his anger and embarrassment. He knew then that he'd touched a raw nerve and felt instantly sorry. Will opened his mouth to apologize but Frederick held up a hand to stop him.

"I don't need to hear it," Frederick said tiredly. "I know."

Will collapsed in a chair, removed his glasses, and set them down on the desk before rubbing his eyes. "It was wrong of me to bring that up when it wasn't something you ever openly told me but the point still stands."

Frederick scowled and sat back in his chair. "It's just how I am. I was telling the truth. Her notes did more or less help."

Will shook his head. "You have no filter or self-restraint, do you? Even if that's true, you don't say it. It's insulting, demeaning, and rude and I won't put up with you if that's how you're just going to be," Will snapped.

Frederick flinched at his words, feeling ashamed, and looked down at the palm of his hand as he absently stroked the mark with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Will."

Will reached out to him through their bond and could feel that his words were genuine. Satisfied, Will sat back in his chair and relaxed a little. "I'm sorry too, for hurting you when I said I wanted to keep our relationship secret. I'm just not prepared for anyone to know yet."

"I understand. I won't tell a soul until you want me to," Frederick said as he laid out his left hand on his desk, palm up.

Will stared at it for a long moment before laying his marked hand over it. The position of their clasped hands was awkward but still comforting.

"You're right about my self-esteem," Frederick said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he traced the lines of Will's palm with his index finger.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I see things I'm not looking for and I can't turn it off around people. The best I can do is avoid eye contact as much as possible," Will said softly.

"You have an extraordinary mind, Mr. Graham, as intrusive as it may be," Frederick said with a small smile.

"There are times where I wish I didn't," Will said with a sigh.

"But then we never would have met," Frederick teased.

Will laughed. "I guess that's true, but you never know."

They enjoyed each other's company for a little while longer until Alana returned and they pulled their hands apart. Will grabbed his glasses and pushed them back on, leaving the top rim in front of his eyes to make it look like he was trying not to see Frederick. Alana glanced between the two of them with an odd expression before tapping Will on the shoulder. He stood up to meet her and they moved a little away from Frederick's desk.

"Hopefully things weren't too hostile while I was gone," she said in his ear.

"Could've been worse. At least he didn't ask to study me again," Will said, sounding exasperated.

Alana looked horrified and surprised. "He did that?"

"Why do you think I was asking about him?" Will said, giving her a look that said he'd be happy if he never saw him again.

Alana turned and shot Frederick a judging look before she returned to Will. "Well, it's your turn anyway and we can get out of here."

Will nodded. "See you soon."

He moved around her and left the room without another look at either of them. He tried to put all of it out of his mind as he walked down into the holding area and approached Abel Gideon's cell. He didn't go into the interview expecting much and walked away from it with the knowledge that Gideon wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper but that he completely believed he was. The development certainly complicated things because it would be hard to prove his innocence of those crimes when he was so firm in his belief he did them. Unless, he thought, the actual Ripper would feel insulted having his artistry pinned to another murderer. If that were the case, there would be another murder soon and because of that, he hoped he was wrong.

He left with Alana once he was finished without having the opportunity to say anything more to Frederick. They compared a few notes on the way back to their cars and discovered that they'd come to the same conclusion. They said their goodbyes at the end of the front steps and headed home. All Will could think about during the long drive is how much he didn't anticipate telling Jack the news.


	3. Chapter 3

Will paced the waiting room of Hannibal's office, having arrived ten minutes early to their session. He both did and didn't want to discuss the recent, wild events of his life. A part of him panicked when he thought about telling someone how he felt as if his relationship was a vital secret. He tried to calm down the nervous flutter in his chest when a soothing tranquility settled over him and he knew that Frederick was reaching out. He smiled to himself just as Hannibal's office door opened.

He turned and the smile dropped away just as Hannibal stepped aside to allow him in. "Will, good to see you."

Will nodded and flashed a brief smile before walking into the room. He took his usual seat and waited until Hannibal sat down in his.

"How have you been, Will? Any new developments in your life you wish to discuss?" Hannibal said as he sat more toward the edge of his seat.

The mark on his right hand seemed to tingle as he thought about telling Hannibal. "I spoke with Dr. Chilton since our last session."

Hannibal's eyebrows rose minimally. Will couldn't get a read on him, which he found mildly frustrating. "And how did that go?"

Will leaned back, thinking about the time they'd spent together in the last week. "It went… well. Surprisingly well. I think I like him."

Hannibal's brow furrowed for a brief moment before his expression returned to stone. "What caused your opinion to change so quickly?"

"We resolved our initial issues and then went out on a date to see if we're as compatible as these marks seem to think we are," Will said as he displayed the image of interlocking circles on his hand. "He is not what I expected. Not entirely."

The veins in Hannibal's hands stood out as he clasped them tightly together, his knuckles turning white from the pressure and lack of circulation. "How does that make you feel?"

Will frowned at the question. "It makes me feel… confused. I didn't like him initially for perfectly valid reasons but being inside his head and having him be in mine, it opens up a whole new line of communication. It cuts through all of the surface bullshit to get right to the truth and with that I can see that he isn't as terrible as he makes himself out to be. He uses his less-than-pleasant attitude and demeanor as a defense mechanism and knowing that I can empathize with him more easily."

"Being able to empathize with someone isn't a basis for a romantic relationship, especially when it comes to you. You can empathize with anyone," Hannibal said as he loosened his tightly clasped hands and sat back a little.

"Yes, but the difference is that he can empathize with me as well. That is something I haven't experienced before, being in a relationship with someone who understands. And his understanding seems to have weakened the armor he's erected around himself somewhat," Will explained, knowing that he was right as he said it. Frederick's walls were slowly crumbling the more he understood Will and it was the same the other way around.

The muscles in Hannibal's jaw stood out as he appeared to clench his teeth. "Things between you two are working out well, then?"

"So far," Will said with a nod. "But I worry there are things he's hiding from me, especially involving the Abel Gideon case. I can feel what he feels but I can't read his thoughts to know if my suspicions are right. I feel awkward asking him in case I'm wrong but I'm also afraid to ask and be right."

"Perhaps I could speak to him in your stead," Hannibal suggested, saying it in a way that might seem like he'd only just considered the idea. Something in Will's gut told him he'd already been considering it.

"I'm not sure if that's the best idea," Will said warily.

"I just want what is best for you, Will, and I'm not certain that he is," Hannibal replied calmly.

"Well, Dr. Lecter, I think I can decide that for myself," Will snapped.

"I apologize, Will," Hannibal said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"I don't want to discuss this anymore," Will said as he crossed his legs, his posture and positioning turning defensive.

Their session together tried to limp on but it ended early since Will had completely shut down. They made an appointment for that Monday as well as Thursday in the hopes that their current issues would be resolved and make up for lost time. He just wanted nothing more to do with Hannibal that day and leaving his office to go home gave him an immense amount of relief.

As he was driving home, he received a call from Frederick and answered it. He kept the phone on his shoulder while thinking about how useful some sort of Bluetooth device might be.

"Hello," Will said, feeling a little happier to talk to him.

"Hi, Will. I was just calling to check in on you. Your emotions were going a little haywire over the past hour," Frederick said, sounding and feeling concerned.

Will felt warmth spread through his chest. "I appreciate your concern. I was just in a therapy session with Dr. Lecter but it's all right. Listen, how would you like to come up for dinner tomorrow?"

"Would this be date number two?" Frederick asked. Will could almost feel both of their hearts beat a little faster.

"It would be if you said yes."

"What time?"

"How about six?"

"I will be there," Frederick said, his happiness apparent in Will's head.

"See you then," Will replied.

"Can't wait."

Will hung up the call and dropped his phone in the passenger's seat, finishing out the long drive in a considerably better mood.

* * *

The next evening, Will rushed around trying to prepare for Frederick's arrival. He'd taken a lint brush to his furniture in an attempt to pick up most of the dog hair but it didn't last very long. He'd vacuumed, cleaned up some odd objects lying around like clothes and books, in an effort to make his living and kitchen areas look presentable. He'd only just started to pan sear the salmon when his doorbell rang, attracting his attention and those of the dogs.

He rushed out to the living room and opened the door to see Frederick standing there in a light blue dress shirt tucked into a pair of dark designer jeans. Will felt surprised to see him dressed so casually, but it was a pleasant surprise.

"I figured since we were just going to be staying in at your place that dressing down a little would be more appropriate? I mean, you got dressed up on our first date. I thought this would be returning the favor," Frederick said, a light flush barely noticeable above his recently trimmed beard.

Will grinned. "You look really good. It suits you. Please, come in, make yourself at home."

Frederick moved past him through the doorway, parting the mob of dogs with ease. Will noticed that he seemed to be more comfortable around them, leaning down to pet them without any hesitance. He didn't even flinch away when the little white one, Daisy, licked his hand. It was the most attracted he'd ever been to Frederick.

After a minute, he snapped out of his admiration and hurried back to the kitchen to check on his fish. He got there just in time to flip the fish over and check on the two pots on the back burners, one filled with brown rice, the other brussel sprouts sautéing in butter and garlic. He sliced a lemon in half on a nearby cutting board and squeezed out some of the juice into the fish pan, causing it to sizzle. He didn't notice that Frederick had wandered in until he finally looked up to his right.

"Sorry, I just smelled something wonderful and had to check it out. It looks delicious," Frederick said with a smile. "To be honest, I didn't peg you as a man that could cook."

Will shrugged. "Well, I do live alone so I had to learn at some point. Though, to be fair, the dogs eat better than I do most days. Would you like anything to drink? I have water, milk, beer, or whisky."

"Water sounds good for now, if you don't mind."

Will turned around to the cabinets and grabbed one of his glasses from them. He filled it most of the way with filtered tap water before handing it to Frederick. He returned to being attentive toward his still cooking meal while Frederick stood by, watching him cook and inattentively sipping the water. After a moment, Will started to feel a pleasantly buzzing heat in his head, like the times he recognized when Frederick was thinking about their kiss. Will grinned as he turned off the burner for the fish and set it aside on the only unused one.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, both genuinely curious and out to embarrass Frederick a little.

"Oh, I, um, nothing," he said before taking a long gulp of water to buy him time. "I wasn't thinking about anything. I don't… I am going to go sit down."

Will laughed as Frederick hurried to the living room. "I apologize, I shouldn't have asked."

Frederick's face was beet red, he could tell even with the distance between them. "It's all right, I just forget sometimes you can feel what I do and that's a bit humiliating."

"It absolutely can be but I guess that's the point of our condition. Can't hide anything. Dinner is ready, anyway, to take your mind off of it," Will said as he turned off the burners and turned to grab a couple of plain white plates.

Frederick stood and walked through the kitchen to reach the dining table, stopping for a moment to kiss Will on the cheek before moving on. Will didn't have time to react before he was gone, but he couldn't help but smile as he plated the food. Once he was done, he carried the plates into the dining area and set them down on the small wooden table. He sat down in the seat across from Frederick before they both dug into the meal.

"Sorry it's not as extravagant as you're used to," Will said.

"It's just as good as it looked. Better than anything I could've paid for," Frederick said, intently cutting one of the sprouts in half.

Will gave him an incredulous look.

"Okay, I probably could pay for better, but the fact that you made it for me gives it points in its favor," Frederick admitted with a smirk.

"Sympathy points, I see what this is," Will said, sending them both into a brief fit of laughter.

"It is very good, though. My compliments to the handsome chef," Frederick said after composing himself.

"Thank you," Will said, glancing up at Frederick.

After they both finished their meal, Will stood up to clear the table, but Frederick beat him to it. Will watched as he rinsed the dishes off in the sink before loading them into the dishwasher. He felt his affection grow a little more from the action and he stood up to meet him at the counters.

"You are full of surprises," Will said as he looked him over.

"I am an enigma," Frederick said with a smile.

Will reached up and placed a hand at the nape of Frederick's neck, curling his fingers into his soft, dark hair.

"What are you doing?" Frederick said, appearing surprised.

Will shrugged. "Giving you something to think about."

Will pressed his lips to Frederick's, kissing him hard and slow as he pinned his lower back to the kitchen counter. Frederick's arms flailed for a moment until his right hand settled on Will's waist and the other entangled in his curls. Will could feel Frederick's lust skyrocket, infecting his own mind as he pressed his body hard against Frederick's.

Will pulled away from Frederick's lips to kiss his way down his jawline to a spot just behind his ear. The sped up heartbeat he could feel against his chest told him that spot was particularly sensitive. Frederick gasped as Will nipped and sucked on the flesh, causing his grip to tighten on Will's hair. His breath caught in his throat just before he moaned Will's name softly into his ear, sending electric chills through Will's body.

Frantic hands grasped at Frederick's shirt and undershirt, ripping them free from their tucked position so Will could fit one hand underneath while the other worked on unbuttoning the light blue shirt. Frederick seemed incapacitated and weak at the knees, sliding down the counter until Will lifted him up by the backs of his thighs and sat him on top of it. The action seemed to set off a switch in Frederick's brain as he suddenly grabbed Will by the front of his shirt and pulled him back into a kiss as he tore the shirt open. Buttons scattered on the floor and Will made an irritated noise.

"That… was a perfectly… good shirt," Will said in between kisses.

Frederick held Will's face in his hands, making sure he was looking him in the eye. "Shut up. I'll buy you a new one," he growled.

He pulled the shirt down Will's arms before dragging the white cotton undershirt off of him. Then he wrapped his legs around Will's waist, moving him in close as they both worked on removing Frederick's shirts. One after the other, the blue shirt and the black one underneath ended up on the floor in a pile with Will's clothes. In between hot, messy kisses, Will fumbled with the button and zipper on Frederick's jeans until he was finally pulling the jeans and his boxers down his hips. Just as Will started to kiss his way down Frederick's chest, a loud, familiar ring echoed through the house.

Will groaned and dropped to his knees. "Shit."

He moved to stand up but Frederick grabbed him before he could walk away, kissing him again to remind him what he was leaving. "You don't have to answer it."

Will held Frederick's face and pressed their foreheads together. "I do," he said breathlessly. "It's probably Jack. My work with him, it's like being on call."

Frederick reluctantly let Will go and Will kissed him softly on his forehead before rushing to the living room to grab his phone.

"What is it?" Will answered irritably.

"I need your help. You need to come down to the BAU right now," Jack demanded, not registering Will's tone at all.

Will shook his head and held in a sigh. "I'll leave in a few minutes."

He hung up the phone and turned to Frederick with an apologetic look and Frederick slid off the counter before pulling up and buttoning his jeans. Will walked over and picked up his white undershirt and Frederick's blue shirt, putting both on as Frederick pulled on his black undershirt. Frederick stared down at the plaid shirt in a heap on the floor then at Will, who was buttoning up the blue one.

"Um…" Frederick said, staring at him oddly.

Will grinned. "Well, you ruined mine. Think of this as penance."

"You are cruel and devious," Frederick said with a serious expression.

"Unfortunately, it's too late for you to back out now. You're welcome to stay here while I'm gone or head home," Will said, pausing for a quick kiss from Frederick. "But if you leave, make sure you lock the door. And I'm sorry about all of this."

"I understand, Will. Just stay safe. I've looked into the cases you've worked on. Those killers are a normal person's nightmare and a psychologist's wet dream," Frederick said as he followed Will to the front door.

"They're like spiders. More afraid of you. Probably," Will said with a shrug, exiting the house after one more quick kiss.

Once outside, distanced from Frederick, his head started to clear as if he'd been living in a fog. His heart stopped beating quite so fast and he could breathe easily. When he reached the driver's door of his car, he looked back at his home and saw Frederick walking by the window. Will could feel the dying embers of his heated lust in his mind along with a dull hum of contentment but all of it was significantly duller than what he'd felt when they'd had physical contact. When they touched, it was an emotion high.

As he buckled himself in and pulled out onto the street, he wondered what other effects their soul mate bond had, both good and bad. He also wondered how many of them Frederick knew about, how much he hadn't been told. It was an unpleasant feeling, being unable to trust someone he was supposed to be falling for, and he was slowly falling for him. Both of those facts terrified him to no end, but he tried to keep himself from feeling it as he settled in for the drive to the BAU.

* * *

After the extensive ordeal of trying to figure out where a call made to Jack originated from, Will found himself driving home with a whole new set of worries. If Jack did receive that call and hear the voice of Miriam Lass, it proved that Gideon wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper. While knowing that both solved and caused problems with the current case, it only raised problems in his personal life.

He felt relieved to see Frederick's car gone when he arrived home. He knew he would have to deal with the case issues with him eventually, but after a long night, all Will wanted to do was sleep. With great effort, he dragged his body up onto the porch, unlocked his door, and checked on the dogs before he undressed and crawled into bed.

He slept for a little while, not as long as he'd have liked, but a few hours seemed better than nothing. He crawled out of bed at noon, knowing he probably should've driven to the Academy to get work done, but ultimately decided to stay home. He opened up the blinds and shades in his living room and kitchen to let some light in and hopefully energize him to feel more awake. Instead, all he felt was a buzz of apprehension and excitement at the back of his mind.

Curiosity rose at the odd feelings and he wondered what Frederick was up to, but he didn't want to call him. Instead, he tried to distract his mind with other tasks. He finished working on the boat engine he'd almost completed a little over a week ago, he put away the dishes still sitting in the dishwasher, he started a load of laundry, and he rearranged his bookshelves. All of it kept his mind off of Frederick and the Gideon case for a little while at a time, but his thoughts kept wandering back to that point.

The stress he felt rose the more he tried to avoid everything until he reached a point where he had to cave or else he would've gone down to the nearest hardware store for paint cans to repaint the whole house exterior. He grabbed his phone and sat down in the living room before calling Frederick. A part of him desperately hoped he wouldn't pick up, but he did.

"Will, I was just going to call you in a few minutes when my shift was over," Frederick said cheerily.

"I'm sorry, I can call back," Will said almost too eagerly.

"No, it's all right. I'm just taking care of a few last minute things. What's on your mind?"

"We need to talk about something important. While it doesn't necessarily affect us directly, it is a problem we need to resolve," Will said as slowly and calmly as possible. Frederick's worry spiked so high at his words that Will could feel it in his veins like an adrenaline shot. His heart beat faster and his brain buzzed like television static.

"Um, okay," Frederick said in a sober tone. "What is it?"

"The Abel Gideon case. Gideon isn't the Chesapeake Ripper. I can't really reveal the details to you right now, I don't have that authority, but there's been a development that rules him out. He may have murdered that nurse and he may think he is the Ripper, but he isn't," Will explained as he heard his own blood rushing in his ears and felt the sweat building up on the palm he held his cell phone in.

"B-but he is. I know he is, Will," Frederick said, trying to sound adamant, but Will could feel drops of uncertainty collecting like rainwater underneath his anxiety.

"Frederick…" Will paused and dropped his head into his free hand. He tried to collect his own worry and disappointment and pack them away before continuing. "Did Gideon come to the conclusion that he was the Ripper on his own or did you help him?"

Will's heart started to beat even faster and the buzz in his head grew louder and the worry infecting their bond expanded. "I had my suspicions but he—"

"Jesus Christ, Frederick, I know you're lying," Will snapped, his voice coming out louder than he intended. "I can feel it. I just wanted you to come clean and you couldn't even do that."

"I'm sorry, Will," Frederick said, his voice soft as his anxiety died down and slowly replaced itself with fear and shame. "It's just, I am already disgraced in my field. If it gets around that I've committed an unethical practice that led to a murder, I'm doomed. It's not like I don't feel guilt. I feel it every day but that nurse is dead and I still have a life to keep intact."

Will felt a strong sense of disgust, causing Frederick's shame to flare up like a gas fed flame. "I understand looking out for yourself, but not at the expense of others. Not like this."

"I didn't know!" Frederick exclaimed in a panic, trying to keep Will on the line, trying to get him to understand. "I didn't know any of this would happen. I had my suspicions that Gideon might possibly be the Ripper, so I used not necessarily approved of methods in case he had simply repressed the memories. I never intended for him to wrongly believe himself to be the Ripper. I didn't want this, Will. You have to believe me."

Will shook his head, feeling angry and to a lesser extent betrayed. "I do believe you but it doesn't fix anything. Listen, Frederick, I have to go. Please don't… don't call me for a while."

"Will?" Frederick said, a pitiful whimper heightening his tone.

Will hung up the phone and set it down next to him before he stood up, slipped on his shoes, and walked outside. The final vestiges of a deep red sunset lay on the horizon as Will entered the chilled outdoor air, the dogs at his heels. He hardly noticed the cold sting on his arms and face as he walked down the porch steps and started to wander his expansive property. The dogs took the opportunity to run around and play unsupervised, dashing by Will and rolling around in the grass. Will simply shoved his hands into his pockets and kept moving, trying to keep his mind clear of all thought.

His life felt like it had been a whirlwind since he started working with Jack and somehow that wind picked up speed when he met Frederick. He'd hardly had time to breathe since he met him, swept up by mostly unwanted emotions. The universe dropped a soul mate in his lap and in that moment he was wondering if the universe accepted returns. Maybe he could exchange Frederick for a nice brunette who liked dogs and had nothing to do with medicine or psychiatry. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, the sound and breath lost with the cool breeze. He just wanted something stress and drama free but that was not in the cards for him and he would have to learn to accept that.

A part of him didn't know why he felt so hurt by the lies because he knew what Frederick was from the start. He knew that he had probably been hiding something from him, but it still hit him as hard as if he hadn't been expecting it at all. He'd been lured into a false sense of trust by their bond, by the feelings they shared. Even in that moment, the sadness and regret he felt from Frederick made him want to forgive him, but he couldn't let it go so easily. Even if Frederick made the choice to lie to everyone else in his life, he wouldn't lie to him again. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

Will's pace slowed down until he stopped moving all together and looked up at the sky. The moon hung high in a fat crescent along with scattered stars across the huge expanse above him. He wandered over to a nearby tree and sat down, joined shortly by Winston who rested his front paws and head on his lap. He brushed a hand through Winston's fur, focusing solely on that action, finding that if he kept his mind clear it was easier to block Frederick out.

He rested outside until he had calmed down from their argument before heading back in to have dinner and then crawl into bed. He didn't even bother looking at his phone, knowing he'd have multiple missed calls and even more by morning. Instead, he set the alarm on his clock for five in the morning in a last minute decision to spend his Sunday fishing. He thought Frederick might attempt to drive up and see him and he didn't want to make the mistake of being around if he did, especially considering the last time they were together.

Their combined emotions in close quarters would turn the situation heated, possibly in either a positive or negative way. Not to mention, he just really didn't want to see him for a little while. So, Will turned off the light and settled in to sleep, clearing his mind in order to relax the sadness lurking just out of reach.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, he woke up early, packed up his gear, and left for the lake that resided near his home. He spent all morning and some of the afternoon out on the water, not looking to catch anything necessarily, just to get away for a while. He caught a few small fish and threw them back, determined to relax, hoping that by the time he returned, the only living beings at his home would be the dogs.

Around two, Will packed everything up and drove back home, feeling content and at peace after going all day without feeling Frederick in his head. Unfortunately, that peace didn't last because as he drove up to the driveway, he felt dejected, and then he saw the man paired with the emotion sitting on the steps of his porch. Will watched him perk up a little as he parked.

Frederick appeared mildly disheveled when he stood up, his suit jacket lying on the porch, his shirt wrinkled, tie loosened. His normally shiny black shoes were caked in dirt as if he'd done a lot of walking around the property. Will tried to look for a way to avoid him but there wasn't one as Frederick beelined toward him after he stepped out of the car.

"You are persistent, I'll give you that," Will grumbled as he pulled his fishing rod and tackle box out of the car.

Frederick kept a respectable distance but his expression was a mixture of desperation and determination. "I'm sorry, Will. I know you don't want to see me, but I need to see you."

Will moved around him and carried his gear up the porch to the front door. Frederick chased after him, catching his arm as he bounded up the short set of steps. Will felt all of Frederick's emotions flow into his head from the contact, causing his head to pound. He felt horrible: sad, ashamed, guilty. He stumbled and fell into the door for support, ripping himself from Frederick's grip.

"Stop doing that! Stop trying to make me forgive you like that. It doesn't come that easily, you have to work for it. I know how you feel, Frederick. I know you're sorry," Will snapped as he regained his balance and turned to face him. "It just doesn't matter right now."

Frederick flinched as if Will had physically struck him and he staggered back a step. "I just need to know this is still salvageable. I don't know what I'd do if I completely obliterated the first good thing to happen to me in a long time the same way I do everything else in my life."

The anger Will felt faded away as he saw how pale and sickly Frederick looked. He knew he couldn't entirely forgive him just yet, but he couldn't leave him in his current state. "It's salvageable, Frederick. I just need time and no more lies."

Frederick nodded eagerly. "No more lies."

"Now please go home," Will said softly.

Frederick picked up his jacket from the wooden boards just by the stairs and walked back to his car. He paused at the door, looking up at Will with something that looked a lot like hope before he opened the door and sat down inside. A minute later, he was gone and his emotions were considerably calmer, more focused as opposed to the haywire mess they once were. Will left his gear by the front door and collapsed into an armchair, wondering what an uncomplicated relationship might be like.

He didn't hear from Frederick from the rest of the day, no more calls or loud, intrusive emotions. He could almost feel Frederick withdrawing his feelings from Will as Will tried to distance his mind from them, two people pulling away from each other while holding an elastic band. He spent the time working on his lesson plans for the week, focusing on Monday's in particular, until it was time for him to sleep.

* * *

The next day passed uneventfully, like stepping back into an old, overused rhythm. He knew all the steps so well that it felt almost boring to him, though he was fairly certain going into it that boring is what he had craved. His lectures passed by like blurs, ones he barely remembered once they were done. When his work at the Academy ended, he couldn't properly account for all of it, but there was no time to dwell as he'd had an appointment with Hannibal Lecter to make.

He wasn't anticipating the session but he couldn't back out. His therapy with Dr. Lecter was part of his deal in working with the FBI, to keep him grounded. However, Hannibal didn't make him feel grounded. He didn't really know what he made him feel. Broken, possibly. Unstable. A puzzle that needed to be solved, clicked back into place so that it could be used the right way. He knew that Hannibal understood him psychologically and he understood him as an empath, but he didn't understand him as a human being. Still, there was a certain trust starting to build between them.

Hannibal seemed pleased to see him when he opened the door to his office to let him in despite the way they last parted. They both took their respective seats, attitudes civil toward one another, and they sat in silence for a long moment until Hannibal deemed it a proper time to speak.

"How was your weekend?" he said in a light, conversational tone.

Will frowned at him, but chose to answer truthfully. "Eventful, to say the least."

"What transpired, if you don't mind my asking."

"As it turns out, I was right to doubt Frederick as I said I did during our last session. He lied to everyone, to _me_, about something vital to do with the case…" Will leaned forward and dropped his head, feeling the weight of everything he'd been keeping inside. "We got into an argument. I said I didn't want to see or talk to him again for a while."

Will looked up as Hannibal made a surprised noise. His whole expression conveyed subtle surprise but it felt false to Will for some reason. "Do you think you'll ever want to see him again?"

"Well, I'll have to, we are soul mates. We'll never be free of each other. But you're asking if I'll forgive him," he said as he stared at the mark on his hand. "Maybe. A part of me wants to but a larger part is angry and feels betrayed."

"Those feelings are understandable, even the part of you that seeks forgiveness so easily," Hannibal said as he sat back and crossed his legs. "Soul bonds are curious and strong but it's not unheard of for bonded people to not end up together as supposedly fated."

"Frederick doesn't want that."

Hannibal frowned slightly. "What do you want, Will?"

"I don't know," Will said, rubbing his eyes. "What I do know is that I don't want to see him right now. But I also know that I like the way I feel when I'm with him."

Hannibal cocked his head to the side a little. "And how is that?"

Will shrugged. "Like we're the only two people that matter and like all we'd need is each other. When we're near each other and when we touch, it's unlike anything I've ever felt before. I think that's part of what keeps drawing me to him against my better sense."

"Then perhaps time away from him is indeed the best thing for you, for the sake of clarity," Hannibal said with an air of something Will couldn't quite place.

"I hope so, at least," Will said, feeling more uncertain than ever.

They eased back into their old pattern, all discomfort melting away as Hannibal coaxed words and emotions out of him in the way that only he could. They talked with the ease of friends, though Hannibal always maintained professionalism during their sessions. Still, Will felt a warmth from him that he didn't feel him give to most people.

He left the therapy session with a blanket of ease resting on top of his apprehension as if it were trying to hide it or pretend it didn't exist. The false comfort worked its magic as he drove home and prepared dinner, but as he sat down to eat, the blanket had slowly dissolved. He suddenly felt the emptiness of his home, the silence as the dogs were all lying down in the next room, the loneliness as the only person sitting at a small table. It was a new feeling as he'd always been content with his life and he realized that it was because he and Frederick had pulled so far away from each other that he couldn't really feel him in his head anymore.

Will looked down at his dinner, picking at it with his fork as his appetite left him. He sighed and set down his fork, pushing the plate away from him as the sight and smell of it made him nauseated. Although a part of him found the need nearly unbearable, he wanted to reach out through the bond. However, he kept himself from it, though he wasn't sure who it was meant to punish anymore.

After tossing the fork in his sink, he wrapped the plate in tinfoil, not wanting to waste the food, and stored it in the fridge. That night, he fell asleep to the silence and the emptiness caused by not feeling completely whole. He fell into a restless sleep, dreaming in pieces about their last date and the direction it could've gone had Jack not called. The next morning he woke up to loud but brief ringing noise feeling hot and frustrated, angry at Frederick for his actions and at himself for his weaknesses.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his phone from the night stand only to see that he'd received a text. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd texted anyone and was surprised to discover that the early morning message was from Frederick.

_Sorry to disturb you. I have something I thought might be important to discuss. Nothing to do with our relationship. I'm texting first just to make sure that it's okay to call._

Will frowned at the screen and felt inclined to deny him, but his curiosity got the better of him. He texted back simply saying: _It's okay to call._

A few minutes later, as Will was dragging himself into the kitchen in order to feed the dogs, his cell phone rang. He answered it swiftly, having brought it along with him just in case.

"What did you want to talk about?" Will said tiredly.

"I attended a dinner at Dr. Lecter's home with Dr. Bloom last night," he began, the tone of his voice sounding just as distant as his emotions.

Will shrugged at no one, unable to keep himself from performing the act despite being alone. "And?"

"He said some curious things to me that I thought you might want to hear, him being your psychiatrist and all," Frederick said as if his own words were like a precious gift.

Will groaned internally as he padded barefoot over to the nearest chair and sat down. "Okay, Frederick. What did he say?"

"He knows what I did, Will. The unethical practices, the psychic driving. He knows and he told me, out of earshot of Dr. Bloom, that he would've done the same thing," Frederick said, his voice sounding more frantic the longer he spoke. "I realize that I did go through with the practice but I know that it's wrong and after the results it yielded, I have no intentions of attempting it again. Under different circumstances, I probably wouldn't have said a word about this, but this is a man who is in charge of your mental health and, as hypocritical as I may sound right now, I don't like it. There's something off about him that chills flesh and raises hairs and I don't like that he is in your head."

A frown spread across Will's face as Frederick spoke, the plausibility of his words sounding less than credible, but he couldn't sense a lie. Then again, he wasn't able to sense much from him with how much they'd drawn away from each other. "I just can't believe Dr. Lecter would say that," Will said, trying to wrap his head around it.

Will reached out through their bond and he felt Frederick reach back, displaying how he felt for Will to see. "I am being honest, Will. I promised and it is one promise I plan to keep."

He felt Frederick's steady heart and his determination to be believed. "Okay, well, even if he did say it, there must be a good reason. I mean, you used it, maybe it's okay to use in some situations."

"It's considered unethical for a reason, Gideon is a prime example as to why. I have certainly learned my lesson and if Hannibal knows the circumstances surrounding my usage, one would think he'd learn it too," Frederick said as his frustration flared up.

"How do you know that he knows all the circumstances? Maybe he was just trying to be reassuring about your mistake."

"The thought had crossed my mind, but he didn't say it in a reassuring way. It was more of an 'I know what you did but I won't say anything for now' kind of way," Frederick said, his voice raising.

"I understand that this is all the truth to you," Will said carefully, "but I just can't imagine Hannibal that way."

Frederick's frustration grew even larger before shrinking down to mild irritation. "You trust him, I get that. Just… take my words under consideration. Please."

"Okay, I will," Will said as he scratched at the back of his neck. "Thank you for being honest, Frederick."

"You're welcome. I guess I'll be going now. Have a good day," Frederick said, a feeling of sadness spreading through him.

"You too, Frederick."

He hung up the phone, unsure of what to think and feel. He knew Frederick called with the best of intentions, but Will felt like he was just misreading what Hannibal had said. Despite that, it felt good to have Frederick back in his head and in his good graces. He set the phone down and picked up where he left off in his morning routine by feeding the dogs before feeding himself. He showered, dressed, and then headed out for another day at work.

* * *

The day passed by him without an issue any larger than a paper mix-up. The day after, however, they discovered the severed arm of Miriam Lass, left by the Chesapeake Ripper. Will felt like it was more excitement than he wanted in one day, but he was grateful that it at least furthered the case. It confirmed Gideon was not the Ripper, though he did feel guilty that it would turn more heat on Frederick for initially making the claim. He tried to call him that afternoon, feeling that he was anxious to the point that it was affecting his own emotions, but he didn't pick up or return the call.

Will felt worried about the odd behavior, but figured he'd call back when he was feeling up to it. He called again the next morning, again hearing nothing, and considered dropping by the Baltimore State Hospital after his final lecture until Frederick showed up outside of his office around noon, holding a brown paper bag with grease stains on it. Will jumped to his feet and let him in, both surprised and pleased to see him.

"Frederick, where have you been?" Will said as Frederick walked by him into the office. The large paper bag smelled distinctly of Chinese food.

"I've been busy trying to cover my own ass," Frederick said, stress radiating off of him, though it eased as he looked up at Will after setting the bag down in an empty spot on Will's desk. "I appreciate that you've been calling, though."

"So you just show up unannounced after being silent for almost twenty-four hours?" Will said as he shut his office door and crossed his arms.

"I'm sorry, I should've called. To be honest, I didn't even plan on coming down until the moment I left my office for lunch. I just needed to get out," he said, his voice cracking a little toward the end. He pulled a chair up toward Will's desk and collapsed into it. Will noticed the odd paleness of his skin and the dark circles under his eyes. "My phone has been ringing off the hook, reporters wanting to talk with me about the case. I don't want to go back there, Will."

Will scratched at his brow, feeling immense sympathy for Frederick even if he had made the bed he was lying in. "It's all right, Frederick. I appreciate the company and the lunch. You can stay as long as you like."

"Thank you," Frederick said genuinely as he looked up into Will's eyes. "Um, have what you'd like from the bag. I wasn't sure of your preferences so I ordered most of what was on the menu."

"You're not going to have anything?" Will said as he stepped forward and ripped opened the top of the stapled bag. The scent grew nearly overwhelming, but it made his stomach rumble.

"Perhaps later," Frederick said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not especially hungry right now."

Will shrugged and picked through the cartons in the bag until he found a pair of chopsticks and vegetable lo mein. He plopped down into his desk chair and dug into the food, happy to have a lunch as he'd forgotten to bring one for the second day in a row. As he ate, he kept a careful eye on Frederick who had grown quiet and contemplative. He tried to feel out his emotions but he couldn't get past the wall of stress he was encased in.

He set down that food carton before hooking his foot around one of the legs of Frederick's chair. With some effort, he was able to turn Frederick around to face him, much to Frederick's surprise as it pulled him from his thoughts. Frederick stared at him with a soft curiosity as Will rolled closer to him in his chair. Will reached out and grabbed Frederick's hands, holding them gently, lacing their fingers together.

"What are you thinking about?" Will asked as he felt the electricity their direct contact caused.

Frederick's hold on Will's hands tightened as his stoic resolve crumbled a little. "About how the hell I'm going to make it through this. Either I make it out unscathed, by some miracle, or my career is over."

Will gave him a sad smile. "You'll make it though, Frederick. You're cunning and resourceful. As long as it never happens again."

"Never again," Frederick said. With his left hand, he grabbed Will's right one, holding it palm up before he brought it up to his lips, softly kissing the black mark at the center. "I've never been a particularly religious man, but you are a blessing if I've ever known one, Will Graham."

"Well, I don't like to brag," Will said with a smirk, but on the inside his whole body was vibrating with hot chills from the kiss. He could still feel Frederick's lips on his flesh even after he set their hands back down.

Frederick laughed, light and happy, and Will joined him. "In all seriousness, I would be a wreck without you. I'm glad I chose to drive here. You've reminded me that even if I do lose my job there's still something to live for."

"Frederick, there's always something to live for," Will said, squeezing Frederick's hands tightly.

Frederick looked at Will sadly, staring at him like he was either some kind of naïve optimist or a thing to be treasured. "Until you, my career was all I had and I buried myself in it, working hard only to be disrespected and laughed at. I may not be on Hannibal Lecter's level but I try, even if I do cut the occasional corner."

Will looked back at him, deep into his eyes, and he could feel the depression and self-loathing buried under a pile of uninhibited ambition. As he experienced Frederick's point of view, Frederick let go of Will's hands, reaching up and holding Will's face before pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and brief, not quite chaste but clearly testing the waters. He pulled back to gauge Will's reaction but Will didn't let him leave, grabbing the lapels of his suit to bring him in closer.

Frederick was pulled forward and transferred his weight from one chair to the other until he was sitting in Will's lap, his knees hugging Will's hips. They kissed again, deeper and hotter until Will could feel Frederick's lust buzzing and burning in his head. He wrapped his arms around Frederick's waist and ground his hips up, eliciting a gasp from Frederick. Will was lost in the moment until he felt the hardness through Frederick's trousers, reminding him of where he was and what he was doing.

He pulled away putting a few inches of distance between them before softly kissed Frederick's cheek. "Sorry about that, but it's probably a bad idea to do this here. Or at all for now," Will said sadly, holding the side of Frederick's face so that the tips of his fingers stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Frederick smiled and nodded before climbing off his lap and returning to his own seat. "I understand."

Will grabbed Frederick's right hand and returned the gesture he'd bestowed upon him earlier by kissing the mark on his palm. "It's got nothing to do with you. It just feels like the emotions that run between us when we touch make me do things I wouldn't of my own volition."

"Whenever you're ready, I'm here," Frederick said with a reassuring smile. "Whether it's ten minutes from now or not at all. I'm with you."

Will sensed the sincerity in his words and felt overwhelmed with a strong emotion. Affection or adoration, or possibly love. He wasn't sure. "I hate that you make me like you when I'm supposed to be mad."

"Well, you can't stay mad forever. I would hope," Frederick said as he stroked his thumb along the veins on the back of Will's hand.

"I suppose you're right," Will replied before he checked the time using an expensive watch on Frederick's wrist. "I should be going. I've got another lecture soon."

He stood up and returned the chair to its position behind his desk before he stooped down to press a kiss to Frederick's forehead. "You don't mind if I stay here?" Frederick said as Will picked up his bag he kept his notes and papers in.

"Not at all. You shouldn't be bothered by any students or other faculty but if someone does stop by, just tell them I'll be back soon."

Frederick nodded and Will left the office, heading down to his next class. He hardly paid attention as he taught, words spilling out of his mouth as if he were merely playing a recording of himself. His thoughts were still in his office with Frederick, still kissing him and holding his hands. He hoped Frederick would still be there when he returned, but as he made his way back to his office after class ended, he found the lights off and the room empty.

He tried to smother his disappointment as he walked in and closed the door behind him. The chair Frederick had sat in had been put back where he'd taken it from, the upholstery still smelled strongly of his cologne, which made Will smile. As he sat down at his desk, he found a note next to the bag of Chinese food written in flowery, yet barely legible script.

_Sorry I had to run. I received a call from the hospital with an urgent matter I had to attend to. Thank you for allowing me your office as a refuge and hopefully we'll see each other again soon. –Frederick. P.S. – You should keep that food in your office mini fridge in case you forget to bring lunch again._

"Mini fridge? I don't—" he looked around his office and saw a small, wood finished fridge tucked into a corner of the room. "I was gone barely more than an hour."

Will shook his head but smiled before he stood up and packed as much of the Chinese food he could into the fridge and threw the rest away. He then sat back down to grade papers, enjoying the scents that permeated the room, reminding him of Frederick. Toward the end of the day, as he was preparing to leave, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He checked it to find a text from Frederick.

_I've realized that I have been to your home a total of four times and you've yet to see mine. If you'd like, perhaps you could come up to visit this Saturday?_

Will considered the offer and decided he was curious enough to accept. _I would like that. What time?_

_Any time after noon. _Frederick responded quickly, leaving his address at the end of the text.

Will started wondering once more what his house might look like, but didn't spend too much time imagining. He packed up what he needed to bring home and left the Academy to make his second appointment with Hannibal for that week.

* * *

"Will, how have you been?" Hannibal said with a small smile as he opened his office door and let Will inside.

"I've been good," Will replied as he walked in and sat down, still riding a sort of high from his earlier time spent with Frederick. "And yourself? I heard from Frederick you invited him and Alana to dinner Monday night."

Hannibal froze for a moment after shutting the door to his office. He stared oddly at Will, a cold glint in his eye, before he unfroze and cleared his throat. "I didn't realize you and Frederick were speaking again, so soon after your argument," he said as he sat down in the opposite chair.

Will shrugged. "I haven't forgiven him exactly, not completely, but he certainly makes it hard for me to stay mad."

"A side effect of your soul bond, perhaps?" Hannibal suggested as he crossed his legs and clasped his hands together.

"Maybe? But I hope not. I'd like to think it's just how he is that makes me like him so much rather than some connection forced upon us."

"I think you should be open to the idea that it's just wishful thinking, that the bond might bring the two of you together against your will," Hannibal said, trying to sound casual, but Will could tell something about him seemed tense.

"Why do you think that?"

"To keep you from getting your hopes up about the sort of man Frederick is," Hannibal said plainly.

Will frowned, feeling his irritation rising at Hannibal's words. He crossed his legs and tightly gripped the arms of the chair. "I'll take your advice into consideration."

Hannibal's eyes looked from Will's face to his hands. "I apologize, Will. This is clearly a very personal matter you don't wish to discuss. I heard that the Abel Gideon case has been wrapped up. Surely, that is a relief?"

Will tried to make himself relax a little. "It is, but there's always another case around the corner."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't celebrate the victories. Life is always a sequence of connected events, some good, others bad, but we don't ignore the good just because we know there is likely something bad upon the horizon," Hannibal said, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I suppose that's true," Will said coldly.

"I'd like to make a formal request for you to join me for dinner this weekend. Saturday, perhaps?" Hannibal said.

Will raised an eyebrow at him. "I have plans."

"Sunday, then."

"Okay, sure," Will said, his brow furrowing slightly.

"The meal should be ready by eight, but feel free to arrive early," Hannibal said pleasantly, a smile on his face.

Will returned the smile out of politeness. "Can't wait."

It felt like a relief when he left Hannibal's office to go home. Throughout the session, it seemed like Hannibal was smothering him, dropping his opinions on him like a cascade of water. He started to feel like he didn't particularly care what Hannibal thought, especially when it came to his relationship with Frederick. He decided then that he would stop discussing the subject with him because he clearly needed to separate those parts of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

Will woke up on Saturday feeling both excited and oddly nervous. He highly anticipated seeing Frederick's home, seeing how he lived when he wasn't in his office. The nervousness, he wasn't sure why he felt it but it was there. He considered it might've been Frederick, but after reaching out, he could tell that Frederick was surprisingly content. To distract himself from his own emotions, he started the day by putting on pants and going for a walk in the warm sun with his dogs.

Afterwards, he ate, showered, then sat around for a while, trying to distract himself with books and work that he had a hard time focusing on. He felt jittery and impatient, watching the clock on the wall as time passed at a painfully slow pace. Eventually, he started to feel waves of calm in his mind, forcing him to take a deep breath and mellow out.

He decided to spend the last hour before leaving doing some much needed cleaning. He swept the floors, dusted a little, trying to pass the time in a quicker fashion. When the clock turned eleven, Will threw on his jacket and left. He knew exactly where Frederick's house was in relation to the State Hospital, and was able to reach the address in a little over an hour. Will was surprised at the appearance of Frederick's home.

He parked in front of the garage door and stepped out, admiring the building that seemed to be seventy percent windows, allowing bright sunlight to stream in. Will found it strange but he did live in a more secluded area of Baltimore. He also found it endearing. He didn't really expect Frederick to be such a sunny person.

He walked up to the door and was about to ring the doorbell when it opened, Frederick standing in the doorway, dressed more casually than he'd ever seen him. He wore a pair of worn down jeans and an untucked white shirt, not completely buttoned to the top so that Will could see the white shirt underneath as well as some chest hair. He found himself feeling unexpectedly attracted to him, an electric buzz raising bumps on his flesh when he looked at him.

He smiled and stepped aside. "Will, it's wonderful to see you."

"Is this what you usually look like on your days off, because if that's the case, I should be around more often," Will said with a grin as he blatantly looked Frederick over.

Frederick flushed a bright red as he shut the door behind Will. "Uh, well, thank you. I, um, not always. I don't always dress this way. I just, for you. A more comfortable environment," Frederick said, completely flustered.

Will chuckled at his sudden ruffled demeanor. "It looks really good on you. And your home is beautiful," he said as he looked around, noticing how clean and well-kept everything looked. He also noticed that it seemed kind of empty, devoid of warm life. "If not a little sparse."

Frederick walked up and stood at Will's side as they both looked through the open arch out of the foyer. "Yeah, I keep a good amount of my treasured belongings in my office. I spend most of my time there anyway."

"How often are you here?" Will asked out of curiosity.

"On weekdays, I come here to sleep. On weekends, well, sometimes I go into work anyway," Frederick said as he turned to Will with a small sad smile. "I like this place, it's why I bought it, it's just so large for one person. It feels lonely after a while."

Frederick walked into the kitchen area and Will followed, leading him into a large, well-furnished living area. The floors were wood, the walls a light blue, and the couch and chairs were a matching beige set. A large flat screen hung on the far wall in between several bookcases on each side. It felt quaint and homey in its own way, though a cold sterility hung over it like with the rest of the house. The place also smelled as clean as it looked as though a team had just been through with lemon-scented products. Frederick sat down on one end of the couch and Will occupied the other end.

"Never thought about getting a pet?" Will said as he looked around the room.

"I don't have the time to look after one. But, if I did, I've thought about adopting a cat, perhaps," Frederick said, watching Will as Will absorbed his surroundings.

Will turned to Frederick, looking surprised before he smiled. "A cat person, huh?"

"Not that there's anything wrong with dogs, but cats are a little less effort. More independent."

Will nodded, understanding his line of thinking. "So, what's the plan for today, Frederick?"

"Plan? I just thought we'd enjoy each other's company. Maybe get to know each other better," Frederick said, looking at Will as he felt a great deal of affection for him.

"And how do you propose we go about that?" Will asked, unable to keep himself from smiling.

"Well, I'd thought we'd just ask each other questions and if all goes well, there might be a little something planned for the end of the day," Frederick said as he put his feet up on the couch, his legs stopping just short of Will's sitting space.

Will slipped off his shoes and joined him, fitting his legs so that one was between Frederick's and the other on the edge of the couch. "Okay, you've peaked my interest. But you go first."

Frederick grinned. "Okay. What's your favorite color?"

Will burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he shook the couch. "You really have the hard hitting questions, huh?"

Frederick couldn't help but laugh along with him. "We'll work up to the big stuff. Besides, I'm curious."

Will had to wait for his laughter to subside before he answered. "Um, it's blue, I think."

"Imagine that, so is mine. Your turn."

Will thought about it, realizing he had no idea what he wanted to know about Frederick. "What… did you want to be when you grew up?"

Frederick laughed a little but the laugh turned into a sigh. "I don't know. A doctor, I think. I always wanted to be a doctor. It started out as wanting to help people until I figured out how much they make, which was an equal motivator," he looked off to the side at the bookcases, a small drop of sadness forming in Frederick's side of the bond before he shrugged it away. "But it didn't pan out, so I became a different kind of doctor."

"Still making quite a bit of money," Will said with a smile.

"Very true. The money was a good consolation. Okay, next question. You used to be a cop, what made you choose that career path?"

"I guess partly the same reason as you, to help people. Definitely wasn't for the money." Will scratched at his head as he thought about it. "I was able to use my _thing_ to help solve cases. But that didn't really last. I enjoy what I do now more, though."

"That's good, it's good to like what you do," Frederick said with a far away glance. "Would you like anything? I haven't offered yet. There's food, I'm sure, and I have a cellar full of wine."

"I'll have some wine," Will said with a smirk. "Seems like we're playing an appropriate game for it even though it's only about one in the afternoon."

"Well, as the saying goes, it's five o'clock somewhere," Frederick said as he stood up from the couch, leaving Will feeling a little colder.

He listened to Frederick's footsteps walk into the kitchen before heading down some steps. He seemed to be gone for a good few minutes before he finally returned from the cellar. Will shut his eyes, listening to the clink of glasses as well as the opening and closing of that large, glass-plated fridge Will had noticed on his way in. He opened his eyes again as Frederick reentered the room holding two wine glasses half-filled with dark red liquid in one hand and a plate of small half sandwiches in the other.

"It's probably best to not drink on an empty stomach," he said as he set the plate down before handing Will his glass.

He took a sip, enjoying the taste but not really able to discern anything special about it. He decided to keep that to himself lest he insult Frederick's choice. "Did you make those?"

Frederick laughed. "No, I, uh, took them from a psychiatric function I attended yesterday. I did it mostly out of spite but I figured it would give me something to eat when I was home."

Frederick moved to reclaim his spot at the other end of the couch but Will held out his hand to Frederick, who stared at it for a moment before grasping it. Will guided him to sit down toward the middle of the couch and then carefully moved him so that he was wedged between Will's legs, his head on Will's chest. Will wrapped an arm around his shoulders before kissing him on top of his head.

"I like this much better," Frederick said in a way that Will could tell he had a grin on his face even if he couldn't see it.

"Yeah, me too."

They nestled together like two halves of a whole, enjoying the warmth for a long moment. "It's your turn, Will," Frederick said after taking a sip of wine.

"No, I asked you about the sandwiches. That was my turn," Will said with a light laugh.

Frederick's laugh mixed with his. "If that's the case, then asking if you wanted anything was mine."

"Nope, doesn't count because it wasn't your turn."

Frederick sighed heavily in mock irritation. "Fine. I do have one question I've been meaning to ask since Thursday."

"What's that?"

"Have you forgiven me completely?"

Will frowned and rested his cheek on top of Frederick's head, his hair soft against his skin. "I don't know. Mostly, I think. It's all in the past and I believe you'll keep your promise. I just… I feel hesitant to entirely forgive you and I can't quite explain it."

Frederick reached up and held the arm Will had around his shoulders with his free hand. "It's okay, I understand. Just curious," he said, sounding perfectly fine, but Will could sense he felt sad and disappointed.

Will tightened his grip around Frederick, holding him closer until he could feel their hearts beat together. They beat perfectly in sync, he noticed, a fact that somehow calmed him. "I'm sorry. I know it's not what you wanted to hear."

"It's not, but that doesn't mean I understand any less," Frederick said before sipping his wine. "Oh, I have one more question, if you don't mind. You can have two in a row next."

Will kissed Frederick on his left temple. "Go ahead."

"You had a session with Dr. Lecter on Thursday, right? You didn't tell him what I said about him, did you?" Frederick asked, worry creeping into his emotions and tone.

Will felt an odd itch in his brain as he tried to remember, but he couldn't figure out what he was talking about. "I don't recall you saying anything about him. To be honest, I don't remember much about that session." Will frowned, feeling frustrated as he tried to remember but was met with nothing but darkness.

"You know, from dinner on Monday. The psychic driving?" Frederick said as if he thought Will might be joking with him.

"You had dinner with him?" Will said incredulously.

"Will, I texted you to ask if I could call," Frederick said with a nervous laugh. "Are you sure you're okay? Perhaps you're under too much stress."

Rather than respond, Will shifted a little so he could reach into his pocket and grab his phone. He checked his correspondence with Frederick and found the text in question. "I really don't remember this. Maybe I am stressed. I'm sorry, Frederick."

"It's okay. It's not important. I was probably just reading too much into things," Frederick said in an odd tone. Will could feel that he was concerned and curious but he quickly filed those two emotions away before Will could figure out why. "Anyway, it's your turn."

They talked through three more hours and four more glasses of wine each, learning as much as they wanted about each other. Will learned that Frederick's home life and childhood were less than pleasant. He'd been born into money but other than the food he ate and the clothes on his back, he never got to see any of it. He had a nanny who was more of a mother than the woman who gave birth to him and after she left, he was eager to be away from his family and on his own. Frederick didn't want to talk about his past more than that so Will offered up stories about his own childhood, how he and his father always moved from place to place until they eventually settled in Louisiana when he was fifteen.

Puzzle pieces of Frederick's character clicked together in his mind and he was sure that the same was happening for Frederick about him. He could easily see why he turned out like he did, so self-serving, eager for positive recognition, loving and hating himself in equal parts. He held Frederick tight when he spoke about topics that were difficult, that brought down storm clouds in his emotions, just to let him know that he was there and he cared. He kissed him when he needed it and sat in silence when he needed that too. By the end of it, when they stood from the couch and set down their empty wine glasses, Will knew that he loved Frederick, but he wasn't about to tell him. He wasn't ready for that.

"I think the afternoon has gone pretty well. What's the something you may have planned?" Will said with a smile as he grabbed Frederick by the waist.

"Patience, Mr. Graham," Frederick said with a scolding expression before he leaned in and kissed him.

Will felt his head swim, his thoughts grow muddled, and when Frederick pulled away, he left him wanting more. Frederick held Will's hand, intertwining their fingers before leading him out of the living room. Will let himself be led out into the kitchen, down a hall, and into a large room with a queen-sized, soft-looking bed with a dark blue comforter and a wooden bed frame. His heart sped up at the sight of it, wondering about Frederick's intentions, but he was led past it to a closet door on the other side of the room.

"Wait here," Frederick said, turning to him before slipping into the walk-in closet. Will's curiosity spiked as Frederick disappeared for a minute and when he returned, he only stuck his head out to speak to him. "Now, before I show it to you, I know nothing about any of this, but I was told this was a very good model. I didn't want anything overly fancy, I get the feeling you wouldn't like that, but if you don't like what I got I can always return it."

Will stared at him strangely until he walked all the way out of a closet with a fishing rod in hand, a sleek, black one with a light-colored, strong wooden handle. He gaped at it, words lost from him as he reached out to hold it. Frederick eagerly relinquished it, watching his expression the whole time. Will's emotions were mixed: awed, grateful, guilty because he could never afford anything extravagant in return.

"Thank you," he finally managed to say.

"So, it's good then?" Frederick said hesitantly.

Will carefully set it aside, leaning it against a dark wooden bookcase, before he pulled Frederick into a kiss, using his lips and tongue to show his gratitude. He shoved him into the closet door, pushing it closed, wrapping one arm around Frederick's waist and resting the other hand on his cheek.

"Very good… apparently," Frederick said breathlessly between kisses.

"It's perfect," Will said, slowing down the kisses until he broke away from him. "You didn't have to."

Frederick held Will's face when Will dropped his hand to rest with the other at Frederick's waist, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. "I know I didn't, but I wanted to. After I saw yours when I drove up unannounced, I thought it would be a good gift. Yours looked a little worn and you don't seem like the type to buy things for yourself. Initially, it was an apology gift, but there wasn't a good time to give it when I bought it so I've been holding onto it…"

"I can't repay you," Will said a little bitterly, looking down toward his feet, but Frederick forced him to look into his eyes.

"For one, I don't want you to. I bought it as a gift and I don't need anything in return," Frederick said with a smile. "But, if you insist, I did purchase one for myself and am looking for an instructor. Preferably an attractive one with dark, curly hair and is tied to me through an unexpected soul bond for all time. If you happen to know anyone like that."

Will grinned and kissed him deeply enough to steal the words from his mouth. "I'll be on the lookout."

Will unbuttoned Frederick's white shirt with surprising ease and pulled it free of him, leaving it on the floor. He did the same with his own, plaid shirt, all the while kissing Frederick as if he couldn't stop touching him in some way even for a brief moment. When that lay on the floor in a heap, he grabbed Frederick's arms and led him to the side of the bed before pushing him down onto it. He knew following through with such actions was probably a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. The electricity and heat between them was palpable and he knew that it was his choice and not the influence of some bond.

Frederick pushed himself further back on the bed so that his whole body was on it and he propped himself up on his elbows, staring hungrily at Will who still stood at the end of the bed. Will stared back with the same intensity, feeling Frederick's lust and giving off his own. He tore the under shirt from his body and tossed it over his shoulder before he climbed onto the bed and on top of Frederick.

He straddled Frederick's hips with his thighs before he grabbed the hem of the white cotton fabric still covering Frederick's torso and pulled it off. Will could feel Frederick's hard cock underneath of him and he grinded down onto it, eliciting a moan from Frederick that sent chills through his whole body. Frederick grabbed onto Will's arms for some kind of support and Will pulled them from his grip before pinning Frederick's arms to the bed.

Will couldn't even properly think as he undid Frederick's jeans and pulled them and his boxers down his legs. He couldn't form complete, coherent sentences, couldn't conceptualize ideas, he only felt the extreme heat and the dull buzz that they created together. He felt the kisses Frederick placed along Will's stomach as if his lips were touching raw nerves, stealing his breath away.

Once clothing was no longer an issue between them, the world became a blur and only the two of them existed. They moved together nearly as one, their minds even feeling as though they were fused together at points, each experiencing what the other felt along with their own sensations to the point where it was nearly overpowering. There was the sweat on their skin, the warm, gasping breaths, all culminating to a peak of white hot pleasure that erased every thought Will ever had or would have for the near future. They laid together in Frederick's bed, Frederick wrapped in Will's arms with his head on his chest, both rising and falling as Will tried to return to a normal breathing pattern.

"That was… intense," Frederick said, taking a pause as he tried to find the right word for it.

Will trailed his fingertips along the arm Frederick had slung over his chest from shoulder to elbow. "Feels like an understatement," he said softly into Frederick's hair.

Frederick laughed. "Yeah, perhaps a bit. I should get up and start dinner before I fall asleep here."

"Do you mind if I use your shower?" Will said as Frederick detached himself and climbed out of bed, pulling on his underwear and jeans.

"Not at all. It's just through that door," Frederick said, pointing to a door on the wall adjacent from the bed. "There are clean towels in the bathroom closet."

Will moved across the bed and pulled Frederick into a departing kiss. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_," Frederick said with a grin.

He radiated happiness, relaxation, and contentment. Once he left the room, Will stepped out from under the covers and crossed the floor to the bathroom. The room was much larger than he expected, cold white tiles under his feet, a glass encased shower in one corner, a large Jacuzzi tub in the other. He glanced around, finding the closet door to the right of the white, porcelain sink inlaid into a white painted counter. He opened the door to find that even the towels were all white, making the room seem even more blindingly bright than it had before.

Will grabbed one and set it on the counter before he stepped into the shower and turned on the water to his liking. He stood under the nearly scalding water and felt a sense of relief and reprieve, able to form complete thoughts again since he put some distance between himself and Frederick. A small, fearful part of him thought he might feel regret once his wits returned but he didn't which was the best feeling he could've taken away from that.

Once he finished showering and dressed, he walked out into the kitchen to find Frederick making an elaborate breakfast for dinner. He walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, softly kissing Frederick's neck as he juggled cooking fried eggs, bacon, and seasoned potatoes on the stove.

"Need any help?" Will said.

"You could grab a couple of plates from the cupboards if you want," Frederick said with a smile, pausing to point out which one.

Will felt reluctant to let go, but he did, grabbing the plates and taking them into the connecting dining room. He set the plates down at two seats and returned to grab the silverware as Frederick finished cooking. They sat and ate and talked about nothing important, just enjoying the others company. Will chose to spend the night, deciding of his own free will, and they spent it sleeping, huddled close to each other as if separation would mean death.

They whiled away the next morning in relaxation, lying in bed together. Frederick sat on his laptop, doing some paperwork and sending out important emails as Will rested next to him, watching the screen without really paying attention. He was more interested in Frederick's heartbeat, in the feeling that flowed through him that told Will he'd never been happier to be at home.

While he hoped to spend most of the day there with Frederick, Will inevitably received a phone call from Jack calling him away to a crime scene at a Baltimore theater. He had to force himself out of bed so he could dress and get ready to leave.

"Believe me, I'd have stayed longer if I could've," Will said a little sadly as he pulled his jeans on.

"I guess I can forgive you this once," Frederick said in mock exasperation as he gathered up his own clothes. Will reached down to pick up his plaid shirt, but Frederick got to it first and slipped it on over his white undershirt. Will raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "Think of it as penance for leaving early."

Will laughed, grabbing Frederick's white shirt and pulling it on, his scent infused in the fibers to make Will feel like he wasn't too far away. They said their goodbyes at the door, stopping for a few goodbye kisses, and then he left for the crime scene.

* * *

Will left the theater late in the day feeling uncomfortable and unsettled. The scent clinging to Frederick's shirt was like an anchor, a way to ground him, but as he attempted to empathize with the crime scene, it didn't help much. He was still seeing Garrett Jacob Hobbs. The man was haunting him worse than any normal trauma reasonably would. It was moments like that which reminded him he wasn't as mentally stable as he tried to be.

Because of that, he was happy to be free of the theater, the body left of display, and Garrett, though driving right to the home of Hannibal Lecter wasn't exactly his idea of relaxation. He briefly considered driving back to Frederick's, but he felt some of the guilt that just blowing Hannibal off would make him feel, so he put that idea out of his mind and drove up to the large, expensive home that Hannibal resided in.

Hannibal met him at the door as he approached. Either he had great hearing or he'd been waiting for him. Will preferred to believe the former because the latter set him on edge. Still, he put on a smile as a part of him desperately hoped he wouldn't be there for very long.

"It's good to see you, Will," Hannibal said pleasantly, holding the front door open for him. "Please, come in."

"It's good to see you too," Will said, moving past him into the well-kept and decorated home.

"You have excellent timing, dinner is just about done if you wouldn't mind helping me by setting the table," Hannibal said, shutting the door behind him before moving around Will to return to the kitchen. He paused briefly at Will's side and Will could've sworn Hannibal had stopped to smell him.

"Of course. That's no problem," Will said, trying to ignore the strange action.

"I appreciate it," Hannibal said, flashing a brief smile.

Will was happy to keep his mind occupied as he carried plates and silverware into the dining room and set everything up just as Hannibal instructed. Afterward, he sat down in one of the seats and waited until Hannibal entered the room, balancing plates and bowls that he set out on the table between the two of them.

"A South Indian curry made from sheep, of course, in a coconut-coriander- chili sauce." Hannibal said.

"Looks delicious," Will said as he looked it over while Hannibal set a nearly full bowl down in front of him.

"I can only hope it tastes as good as it looks," he said with obvious false modesty.

Will smiled, biting his tongue to keep himself from making a remark.

"So, I heard about the murder at the theater, a man made into a musical instrument," Hannibal said as he finally sat down to eat.

"Yes, it was… horrifying to say the least. I feel like it got to me a little more than I wanted it to," Will admitted, though he wasn't sure why.

"What makes you feel that way?" Hannibal said, never turning off his psychiatry, even for dinner.

Will sighed. "I saw Garrett Jacob Hobbs again."

Hannibal frowned slightly, the perfect picture of concern. "And what was he doing when you saw him?"

"Sitting in the front row of the theater, watching my performance," Will said bitterly. He shook his head. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just residual trauma."

Hannibal didn't look so sure but didn't say anything to the contrary. "Just inform me if you happen to see him again."

Will nodded as he looked down at his bowl and ate a spoonful. They sat and ate in silence for a few minutes until Hannibal broke it again.

"How did your plans yesterday go?"

Will frowned, forgetting that he told Hannibal he had plans. "Um, they went well."

"What did you do?" he said, prying further.

Will could feel him blatantly trying to find answers and he found himself willing to give them. "I was at Frederick's all day. And night."

Hannibal's chewing slowed down until he swallowed what he was eating, eyeing Will curiously. "And you said that went well?"

Will nodded. "It did. We mostly talked, we had dinner, and I decided to spend the night since already had plans in Baltimore the next day."

"And nothing else culminated between the two of you?" Hannibal asked, trying to sound harmlessly curious.

Will genuinely didn't want to discuss it but found himself unable to lie so he simply remained quiet, taking a large bite of food so he didn't have to talk.

"I apologize, that was prying a bit too far."

"Yes, it was," Will said softly, incapable of looking him in the eye.

They carried on with their dinner, the atmosphere a littler colder than it had been originally. They spoke here and there more about what was going on in Hannibal's life, projects he was working on, a journal article he was considering writing about some facet of some patient. Will was hardly listening. He helped to clean up after because it was polite and after what seemed like an hour of time, he was ready to leave. Yet, as he checked a wall clock on the way out, he discovered two hours had passed, leaving him feeling deeply surprised.

"I could've sworn it hadn't been two hours," Will said to himself, though Hannibal was right beside him as he led him to the door.

"How time flies," Hannibal said airily as if it were perfectly harmless.

Will wanted to say more about it, but he kept it down. He probably just misjudged the time and it wasn't as if an hour was a huge loss. They said goodbye and Will felt relief as soon as Hannibal shut his door behind him. It was a different feeling than when he was away from Frederick after being with him for a while. In that case, the relief was a calm clarity after a usually pleasant windstorm of emotion. With Hannibal, it was like finally being free of a cage clamped around his head.

He rushed to his car and took off, heading out on the route home while thinking about how nice it would be to just go back to Frederick's home instead. However, he knew Frederick had work and he had classes that he hadn't yet prepared for much. Still, hearing he voice after his experience with Hannibal sounded comforting so he grabbed his cell phone and dialed.

"Hello, Will. It's been _ages _since I've seen you," Frederick said upon answering.

Will smiled, his mood instantly brightened. "Months, possibly. Even years. How are you?"

"I'm all right," he said and Will could feel his stress as he said it. "A lot of work. A lot of problems. I think Dr. Gideon is planning to sue. And I seem to have misplaced my access badge which is just the icing on the proverbial cake."

"Oh, that's…" Will wanted to say awful, and it was, but Frederick did bring it upon himself. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Will. I understand how you feel about it and I know I kind of had it coming. I would just very much like to keep my job and my credentials. And my freedom. I don't know if it'll go that far, but I quite enjoy not being in prison."

"Most people do. But you have the money for a good lawyer. I'm sure it'll all blow over soon," Will said, trying to sound supportive.

"Thanks. How about you? How have you been? Doing a lot of daydreaming from what I sensed," Frederick said, eager for a subject change.

That struck Will as odd but unsurprising given how much time he couldn't account for. "I must've. I was at dinner with Hannibal after the crime scene. I can't say it was particularly enjoyable."

Frederick laughed. "Yes, he makes a wonderful meal but is less than wonderful company."

"At least someone agrees. Despite how often they clash on professional opinions, I'd never get a bad word about him out of Alana," Will said. "I wish I could see you."

"And I you," Frederick said with a sigh. "Next weekend? A fourth date."

"Absolutely. I believe it's my turn to plan something."

"I look forward to it then."

"So do I. But I should go, I'm actually in the middle of driving."

"Shame on you, Mr. Graham. You know better," Frederick said in a chastising tone.

"I do, but I wanted to hear your voice."

"I'm flattered. I needed to hear yours too after the day I've had. But I'll let you go. Talk to you soon."

They each said their goodbyes and Will hung up. Their conversation, even as short as it was, felt like exactly what he needed. He felt contented for the rest of his drive and felt relief upon reaching his home where he could finally relax. He let out and fed his dogs and worked on his lesson plan into the early morning hours before he finally crawled into bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday and Tuesday Will regarded as mostly uneventful. He taught a few classes and lived his way through normal daily routines. The only unusual moment he experienced was an incident Tuesday afternoon when he thought a dog had been attacked near his home. He had called Alana over for assistance but they'd found nothing. Wednesday morning, however, he heard the sounds of an animal scratching around in his chimney. With the need to set the animal free, he took a hammer to his wall, pulling away the stones and finding nothing. As he was wondering what it possibly could've been, his doorbell rang, prompting him to set down the hammer and walk away from the issue for a moment.

"Alana?" Will said as he opened the door. "What, um, what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by to check in on you, especially after yesterday," she said, a kind smile on her face.

"Oh, uh, come in," Will said, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

Alana walked in, passing him, but paused a few feet in when she noticed the gaping hole in his wall. "What happened here?"

"I heard an animal scratching around. I thought maybe a raccoon?" Will said with a slight shrug as he closed the door and joined her at her side, staring at the hole in his wall.

"And did you find anything?" Alana said as she looked up at him, her expression one of genuine concern.

Will reached up with his right hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, no. It might've gotten itself free."

Alana stared at him with doubt in her eyes and he felt that doubt in himself. What he heard hadn't been real. He didn't want to admit it, but it was true. He was hallucinating, he was losing his mental faculties, and he didn't know how to cope with it. He dropped his hand from his neck and he saw Alana's eyes widen, but it wasn't until she caught his hand in hers that he realized what she saw.

"What is this," Alana said, turning his hand over until his palm was up for both of them to see.

Will ripped it from her grasp, his face flushing a deep red. "I—just… It's nothing," he said, fumbling for words as he curled his hand into a tight fist.

Recognition lit up her eyes and she gasped. "No. No way. You and Dr. Chilton?"

Will's panic levels rose and his eyes widened as he stepped back, holding up his hands in surrender. "No, no. I—I never. I don't know what you mean."

"That mark I saw on Dr. Chilton's hand the day we were interviewing Gideon, that's what it was," she said incredulously, eyes wide with shock. "I knew the two of you were acting strangely!"

Will stumbled over to a chair and sat down, covering his face with his hands. When he looked up, Alana stood there staring at him expectantly. "I… I didn't want anyone to know. I wasn't ready."

"I'm sorry, Will," she said sympathetically. "So, it's just the two of you and me who know?"

"And Hannibal and Jack," Will said with a nod. "I've discussed our odd relationship in therapy and Jack has been kind enough to forget it ever happened."

"I just can't believe it, it's all so strange. You and Chilton," she said as she wandered over to the nearest chair and sat down as well.

"I know, it doesn't make sense and yet, here we are," Will said with a nervous laugh.

"How has that been? How long has this been going on?"

"Um, almost a month and it's been rocky, to say the least, but I don't hate him," Will said as he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. "I, uh, actually like him. A lot."

"Even with all we know about what he did to Gideon?" Alana said, looking worried.

"That's been the rocky part and we didn't really talk for a few days but he… well. I've mostly forgiven him."

Alana frowned, her brow creasing. "Will…"

"I know he isn't the best human being in the world, Alana, but that doesn't change how I feel," Will said defensively.

Alana nodded, conceding. "Just be careful, Will. We both know how he is and, soul mate or not, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself," Will snapped, instantly regretting the outburst. "I appreciate the concern but I think I'll be okay."

Alana stood up and Will stood to meet her. "I should probably be going, but do you need help with anything before I go?"

Will smiled and shook his head. "Uh, no, I'm just going to start repairing the wall, I guess, then get ready for my first lecture in a few hours."

He led her to the door and watched until she had driven out of sight before closing it, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Not only was he mentally unstable, but Alana found out about him and Frederick and it only served to replant a seed of doubt in him. It all felt like too much, too complicated, and it made Will regret ever agreeing to consult for the FBI. He'd gotten in too deep and it was ruining him. He didn't know what he could actively do, so he chose to do nothing and hoped that everything would get better on its own.

* * *

The next day, he endeavored to speak with Hannibal about his concerns. He didn't particularly want to, but he had no one else to turn to. Alana wasn't his psychiatrist, nor did he want her to be, and he didn't want to worry Frederick about such things unless he absolutely needed to. So, he settled with the next best thing.

Hannibal eagerly invited him in, opening his door exactly on time as he always did, and Will smiled at him half-heartedly before walking inside. They each sat down, settling into their usual roles, and Will felt as though he were already under his scrutiny. Hannibal mimicked Will's position in the chair, sitting back, hands clasped together and resting in his lap.

"How have you been?" Hannibal said casually.

Will frowned, reaching out to Frederick for some kind of friendly support. Even just feeling his stress and worry was a comforting presence in his mind. "Not well."

"What has happened, Will?"

Will rubbed his eyes hard enough to see spots. "I have started experiencing hallucinations, I think."

Hannibal looked mildly surprised. "Hallucinations? Of what sort?"

"Well, um, yesterday I thought I heard an animal in my chimney," Will said, speaking slowly so that the tremor leaking into his voice wouldn't seem so pronounced. "I went so far as to tear the wall open. Alana showed up not long after and the way she looked at me… I knew, we both know, that it was all in my head."

"Will, have you taken into consideration that you might be mentally unwell?" Hannibal said carefully.

Will laughed, sounding almost manic. "I have, Dr. Lecter. I've taken it into serious consideration. I'm thinking I may just need a few days off."

"Thinking or hoping?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not," Hannibal agreed. "My suggestion, if you wish to consider it, would be for me to conduct a few tests to see if there is indeed a problem."

Will frowned, not particularly liking his suggestion. "Would they be invasive?"

"Not in a physical sense, but yes. Would you rather know for certain or continue to hope?"

Will rubbed his face, wishing he could just go back to the days where he was nothing other than a professor at the Academy. "Fine. I consent to these tests."

"You are certain?" Hannibal said, looking Will in the eye.

"I just want to know the truth."

"Then I will begin right away."

A few minutes later, Will was in a trance that he was both aware and unaware of. Hannibal had explained he would be putting Will in a different state of mind before conducting his tests, but once Will was in it, his conscious mind was gone. It felt both new and familiar for reasons he couldn't place, though those feelings were lost in his mind, left unrecognized. After what felt like a few seconds, he woke up, feeling both confused and disoriented.

"Was that it?" Will said, as he looked around the office in an attempt to regain his bearing.

"You've been under for nearly an hour, Will," Hannibal said in a soothing tone.

"An hour?" Will grabbed his phone from his pocket to discover that their session was, in fact, nearly over.

"When you're in the trance state I put you in, it's something like sleeping. Large amounts of time can pass in no time at all," Hannibal explained as he sat back in his chair.

Will furrowed his brow and shook his head. "Well, uh, did you find anything?"

Hannibal looked deeply concerned and the expression sent Will's anxiety through the roof. "I strongly believe that your problems are mental. I would suggest us meeting twice a week so that we can work through it together efficiently."

Will stood up and headed for the exit, feeling a flutter of panic in his chest that urged him to run. "I respectfully decline your suggestion, Dr. Lecter," he said harshly, not looking back even as he heard Hannibal stand up and start to walk after him.

"Will, where are you going?" Hannibal called after him as Will walked through the door and marched out.

"To get a second opinion," Will replied shakily.

His body felt like it was bathed in a cold sweat, made even colder when the outside air hit him. He shivered but kept walking to his car, determined to leave Hannibal's office as fast as possible in case he was trying to catch up to him. He felt remnants of safety and comfort return only when he'd driven a few miles away, giving him a chance to think and breathe. He wasn't going back to see Dr. Lecter, not until he spoke with someone who could confirm or deny his diagnosis. Not until he spoke with Frederick.

* * *

Anxiety and unsurity ran through him as if they had replaced his blood. It only continued to grow worse and, as Will drove down an abandoned road not too far from home, he found himself needing to pull over because his hands shook too much. He put the car in park and stumbled out onto the road before finding a spot to sit in the grass off to the side. Will pulled out his phone with a trembling hand, intending to call Frederick, but his phone started to ring before he could. Frederick had called first.

Will stole a deep breath of cool, fresh air before answering. "To answer your question, no. I'm not okay, Frederick. Not at all."

"What happened?" Frederick said, his voice carrying a tremor of worry.

Will laughed, the laugh cracking into a choked sob. "I don't entirely know. My own mind happened. Hannibal Lecter happened. The façade of normalcy for both of them seems to be crumbling away."

"You just got out of a session," Frederick said, his voice hardening. Will felt his anger and worry flare up. "Damn it. I knew this would… What did he say?"

"He said that I'm not mentally well. I may have been having hallucinations but—"

"Hallucinations? Will! Why have you been keeping this from me?" Frederick reprimanded.

"It only started this week. I was thinking—I still think—it was stress-based. I didn't want to needlessly worry you," Will said, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, consider me worried," Frederick said. "Where are you?"

"Um, almost home. Sitting on the side of the road," Will said, his voice wavering.

"Go home, Will. I have my jacket and my keys. I will be there soon," Frederick said.

"Frederick, n—" Will sighed as Frederick hung up, cutting him off.

Will inhaled a few more deep steadying breaths before he stood up and sat back in his car. He felt like he was driving on autopilot the rest of the way home, the route memorized well enough for him to do so. He thought only of his warm bed, of being surrounded by his dogs, of the safety and comfort he craved. Soon enough, he was there, being greeted by his dogs as he took off his jacket.

He let the dogs run outside as he remained within, pulling away his dirty clothes until he stood in his white shirt and boxers. Bumps rose on his exposed flesh from the cold air around him, prompting him to crawl under his covers even though all the lights were still on and the dogs were still outside. He didn't plan on falling asleep but it happened, passing the time until a knock on the door woke him up.

In a half-conscious state, Will rolled out of bed and opened the door, allowing the dogs and Frederick to pour in. Frederick didn't even pause; he merely walked in and scooped Will into a hug, one arm around his waist while the other hand cradled Will's head. It required a few moments for Will to register what happened, but when he did, he hugged back tightly, crushing Frederick's torso, but he never complained.

"How did I not notice something was wrong?" Frederick said softly as he pulled away a little so he could look at Will. "How could you not tell me about this?"

Will shook slightly, like a brittle leaf still clinging desperately to its tree, and Frederick brushed the hair from his brow before kissing his forehead. "I'm sorry, I just… I hoped it would just go away."

"We're going to figure this out, Will. I'm going to help in any way I can, in any way you want me to," Frederick said as he held Will's shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"What about Hannibal?" Will said, stepping out of Frederick's hold and closing the front door.

"Fuck Hannibal," Chilton said, his voice filled with venom. Will turned to him with a surprised expression. "I haven't trusted him since that dinner he invited me to. I know he's keeping my secret about the psychic driving as blackmail if I talk about what I know but I don't care. Not if he's going to put you through this."

"What do you know, Frederick?" Will said, cocking his head slightly.

"I know that he's not the angel everyone seems to see when they look at him. Deep down, he's just as corrupt as I was before you came along," Frederick said bitterly.

Will nodded, crossing his arms as he felt cold again. "I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight."

Frederick's expression softened from its angered state at his words. "I understand. You rest. Is there anything you need to do that I can take care of?"

Will rubbed his eyes. "Um, I just need to feed the dogs. There's dry food in the pantry."

Frederick nodded and walked toward the kitchen. Halfway across the living room, he whistled and the dogs heard him and fell in line at his heels. Will stared after him oddly, curious and confused how he would've known that was how he usually called the dogs. He shrugged it off and climbed into bed, turning off his bedside light once under the covers. He listened as he heard the dry dog food being poured into the various dishes on the kitchen floor.

A few minutes later, he heard Frederick's footsteps return to the room and felt as he sat down on the other side of the bed. He untied and removed his shoes before standing and removing his clothes. Soon after, he climbed in into the bed and Will turned to face him. They pressed their foreheads together and Will smiled as he looked into Frederick's gorgeous hazel eyes, the color just barely showing up by the moonlight.

"Who said you could be here?" Will teased.

"Well, I could sleep in a chair, if you'd prefer."

Will shook his head before resting a hand on Frederick's cheek and kissing him. He laid his head on Frederick's shoulder, his forehead pressed against his neck, simply needing to be held for once. Frederick obliged, wrapping his arms tightly around Will, radiating affection as he acted as Will's refuge. Will finally felt warm that night and fell asleep easily, dreaming of nothing.

* * *

When Will woke up, he was pleasantly surprised to find himself still in Frederick's arms, his head resting on Frederick's chest where he could clearly hear his heartbeat. Frederick was brushing a hand through Will's hair as he had his eyes closed, willing to lie there awake for however long Will slept. Will smiled and relieved him of his duty by gently shifting away to lay his head on his own pillow.

"Good morning," Frederick said as he smiled at Will. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thanks to you," Will said.

"Glad to be of service," Frederick said, leaning over to kiss Will tenderly before he crawled out of bed and pulled on his pants. "I'm going to go make some coffee."

Will checked the time, seeing it was a few minutes after eight. "Don't you have work?"

Frederick turned around at the opening connecting the living room and kitchen. "You are more important. I can stand to be a little late."

Will's heart fluttered a little and he heard Frederick laugh from the kitchen, obviously feeling the biological outburst of affection in his own chest. He couldn't help but smile as he followed after him, interested in the aforementioned coffee and some breakfast. He found Frederick sitting in a wooden chair, petting Winston, who was sitting in front of him, as the coffee brewed in the pot.

"What would you like to eat?" Will asked, passing by the two of them on his way to the fridge.

"Maybe some toast or a bagel. I'm not much of a breakfast person," Frederick said, looking briefly up at Will before scratching Winston behind the ears.

"You two look friendly. I didn't think you liked dogs that much," Will commented as he grabbed a bag of plain bagels.

"Oh, um," Frederick said, a little flustered as he pat Winston on the head and stood up. "I like your dogs."

Will smiled as he watched him grab a mug from one of the cupboards and pour himself a cup of coffee. He then returned to his task, dropping the two halves of a bagel into the toaster. Once they'd both eaten and reenergized, they showered and dressed in turn until they both sat in his living room, ready to leave but unwilling to.

"We need to talk about last night, Will," Frederick said softly.

Will averted his gaze but he nodded.

"What have you been hallucinating about?"

"Animal noises," Will said, glancing up at Frederick before looking down at his hands. "I thought I heard a dog being attacked on my property. The next day, I thought I heard something scratching around in my chimney. I tore the wall open to find it. After Alana stopped by was when I realized it wasn't real."

Frederick nodded as Will spoke, absorbing the information. "It doesn't sound especially serious, but hallucinations are generally only a symptom of a larger problem."

"Do you think the problem is mental or neurological?" Will said.

Frederick frowned. "It's hard to say without testing. You should make an appointment for a brain scan." He looked away from Will, feeling helpless and frustrated. "I feel like I should be able to sense it. Whatever the source of the problem, it's in your head, but nothing has felt any different this whole time."

Will held out his hand to Frederick and he grasped it, lacing their fingers together. "We'll figure it out. I'll make that appointment today."

"Do it for a weekend, so I can be there with you," Frederick said in an almost pleading tone.

Will nodded and stood up, bringing Frederick with him, and walked to the front door. "You should be on your way to work."

"I probably should've been several hours ago," Frederick said with a laugh, "but you're right. I should go."

With one hand on the doorknob, Frederick paused to kiss Will, brief but desperate as if to say he'd rather be with him than anywhere. Then he left, climbing into his car and driving away. Not long after, Will left as well, heading to his own job where he hoped to put everything about the previous day out of his mind.

* * *

He navigated the day without incident which left him feeling both at ease and uncomfortable. A false sense of security when he knew the rug would be ripped out from underneath him again soon. Frederick texted him periodically throughout the day to check in on him and Will kept reassuring him that he was fine.

Exhaustion gripped him by the end of the day and all he wanted to do when he got home was sleep, but he forced himself to make an appointment with a local neurologist for next Sunday. He texted Frederick about it before crawling into bed, an optimistic part of him thinking maybe a weekend of rest would be all he needed.

Will tried to spend his Saturday as relaxed as possible, but he found it difficult when he expected the worst to happen at any moment. And, as he expected it, it happened. A little after noon, as he was propped up on his bed with a book open in his hands, he blinked and when he opened his eyes, he was staring through the windshield of his car at a busy Baltimore street.

He panicked, completely terrified, and hit the brakes, nearly causing an accident as the cars behind him screamed to an abrupt stop. He gasped for air, glancing around him with frantic eyes. There was a ringing in his ears and it took him a few moments to realize it was his cellphone. He fumbled for it in his pocket as horns blared behind him. Instinctively, he started to drive forward with no real direction as he answered the phone.

"H-hello?" Will said, still entirely disoriented.

"Will? Fuck, Will, where have you been!?" Frederick said, his voice sounding hoarse. "I've been calling for the past hour. I'm in my car trying to find you. Jesus!"

"Frederick, I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened," Will said, gripping the steering wheel with his free hand for dear life as if it was the only thing grounding him in reality.

"You were gone! You were there in my head and then you were just gone. I thought the worst. I thought you—" His sentence was cut off by a soft, strangled noise.

"I'm so sorry. I think I'm somewhere in Baltimore. I think, um, that I lost time. One second I was at home and the next I'm sitting here driving down some street and you were calling," Will's stomach dropped and he felt ill. "Oh, god, Hannibal was right. I'm losing my mind."

"Will, Will, no. Please listen to me. Take a few deep breaths and try to tell me exactly where you are," Frederick said in a calm, soothing tone.

Will tried to calm down as he looked around him for anything familiar, street names or landmarks. "I think that I might be close to your house, Frederick. I think that's where I was headed."

Frederick exhaled, feeling relieved. "Okay, good, go there and please wait for me. I'm twenty minutes out."

He hung up and Will was left on his own, but having a close destination gave him a purpose that he could fully concentrate on as he ignored what had happened. When he arrived, he parked in front of the garage door like he did last time and waited, focusing on the emotions he could feel from Frederick rather than his own. Worry, relief, fear, unsurity. None of it gave Will much confidence about his own situation but he tried not to think about that. He remained still in his seat until Frederick pulled his car up behind his own and parked.

Will practically threw himself from the car as he raced to meet Frederick. They ran into each other's arms, the only place where either of them felt any comfort. Will felt Frederick weaken as he fought back waves of sadness. He held him tighter, keeping him on his feet.

"I'm sorry, Will. I just… thought I'd lost you," Frederick said, his voice wavering as he tried to collect himself. "I'm going to call in some favors and see if I can get you an appointment tonight."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Will said. "I should've said something sooner, this could've been taken care of."

Frederick stepped back, holding onto Will's arms. "It doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that you're safe."

That last word struck a chord in Will's head, a careful hand plucking a single, precise note. He blinked, the world falling away from him as everything grew dark and the word safe echoed in the arena of his mind, so loud it hurt his ears. _Waking. You're waking in a pleasant room. Safe._ Will wrenched himself from Frederick's hold, stumbling back, looking up at his face without really seeing it. _You're waking now. Safe. _Frederick's voice, the comfort it once held splintering from the noise.

"No," Will whispered, feeling horrified as Frederick's face swam back into his vision, his voice still pounding in his ears.

"Will, what is it?" Frederick said.

Will could feel his concern but it felt tainted, poisoned. Frederick stepped toward him and Will flinched away, holding up his hands defensively.

"I hear your voice in my head," Will said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is you. It's all you."

"What is? I don't understand," Frederick replied, blatantly confused but realizing enough to keep his distance.

"You were in my head, you've been in my head this whole time," Will growled, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. He charged at Frederick, hitting him square in the chest and nearly knocking him over. "This is your fault. EVERYTHING THAT'S BEEN HAPPENING TO ME. HOW COULD YOU?"

Frederick looked horrified as he scrambled away from Will. "I didn't do anything. I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I hear your voice, Frederick," Will hissed. "I see flashing lights. You've been manipulating me. I trusted you, oh god. I TRUSTED YOU. I LOVED YOU."

He wasn't sure why he admitted that then, perhaps to hurt Frederick the way he'd hurt him. If that was the case, it worked. Frederick appeared and felt sick, his legs unable to support the weight of his body any longer. He dropped to his knees on the paved walkway in front of his house, looking up at Will with hopelessness in his eyes.

"I swear to you with everything I have, it wasn't me," he said, pleading. "Please, Will. I've kept my promise. I wouldn't do this, it's someone else. It's… Hannibal. Oh my god."

"I don't believe you," Will spat, backing away from Frederick. He rushed to his car, throwing open the driver's side door.

"WILL, IT WAS HANNIBAL," Frederick called, pushing himself to his feet and running after him. He stood on the other side of the car, hands up in surrender. "Don't believe me if you want, just, please, stay away from Hannibal Lecter. Get the brain scan. I'm begging you."

Will couldn't bring himself to look at Frederick as he ducked into the car and started the engine. He registered his words but didn't respond to them. Instead, he slammed the door shut and drove across Frederick's yard since his car was blocking him in, nearly hitting Frederick in the process. He could hardly think and he could still hear Frederick's voice in his head, over and over on a loop. Tears started to fall, burning his eyes and his skin, but he tried to contain them. He felt so deeply betrayed that it made his chest ache. He didn't know who he could trust anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

As Will drove, he tried to shut Frederick out of his mind, but it was incredibly difficult with his emotions as out of control as they were. He didn't quite know where he was going, but it was both away from Frederick and away from home. Ultimately, that direction led him straight to Hannibal, the only place he could think of to find help. He parked his car in front of Hannibal's home, rang the doorbell, and waited. The door creaked open a few minutes later and Hannibal stared at him with genuine surprise.

Will imagined he must've been quite a sight. Red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, unable to keep himself from shaking even though he'd stopped crying.

"Will, what are you doing here?" Hannibal said as he looked Will over.

"I was so wrong. About everything," Will said, his voice thick from all the emotion he was keeping inside. "I need your help."

Hannibal paused for a moment, taking that in, before he stepped aside. "Please, come in. Tell me what happened."

Will walked past him into the house, relaxing a little to be indoors somewhere safe, a shelter from the storm in his mind. He moved through the foyer and the kitchen into a red-walled living area where he collapsed into an uncomfortable arm chair. Hannibal walked in a few moments later, carefully moving a matching chair so that he sat across from Will. He waited patiently until Will felt ready to speak.

"You were right all along about Frederick," Will said quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper. "You and Alana both."

"What transpired between you?" Hannibal said in a gentle tone.

"I found out that he's been manipulating me," Will said, feeling angry and betrayed and his hands started to shake again. "He's been in my head causing god knows what. Planting things, taking things, maybe the hallucinations and time loss were his fault too. I… don't know what to do. I don't…"

Will took a deep breath, pushing back the emotions that welled up again, building up pressure behind his eyes. He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands, trying to prevent Hannibal from seeing him break down. His shoulders trembled from the weight of everything he carried until he felt hands on them, holding him still.

He looked up to see Hannibal kneeling in front of him, holding him tightly to stabilize him. Will relaxed into his hold, wanting nothing more than to relinquish control of everything. He let Hannibal pull him into a hug, let himself be held as he felt nothing but hollowness as if all of his insides had been scooped out. All that remained was an anguished sadness from the other end of a bond that he couldn't remove no matter how much he wanted to.

Hannibal tried to comfort him but there wasn't anything left to comfort, so he just remained in his arms until he let go, holding him at arm's length instead. He felt examined as Hannibal looked him over. He appeared concerned but Will didn't feel his concern, like he was simply wearing a mask rather than experiencing the emotion.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Will," Hannibal said, taking a step back into his chair, giving him space. "I knew Frederick was probably unethical and unorthodox, but I never thought he would do this. I feel responsible. I should have done more to keep you from him."

Will looked up into his eyes and, for a moment, he thought he saw the emptiness he felt inside reflected back at him. "It was my own fault for not listening," Will said monotonously.

"The way he was manipulating you, you couldn't have known, Will," Hannibal said reassuringly. "You are not at fault and I'm here to help you."

"Can you fix it? Everything he's done, can you put me back together?" Will said, his voice cracking.

Hannibal nodded. "I will do my best. You said you lost time? That's a new symptom."

"Yes, just today. Just before I found out…" He had to pause and recollect himself as he felt his eyes start to burn again. "I lost about an hour in the blink of an eye. What do you think is causing it?"

Hannibal appeared contemplative for a few moments. "It's hard to say. It could be Frederick's doing, as you said, or it could be a deeper problem. The best course of action would be to go through with my earlier suggestion. We'll meet twice a week and slowly work toward a solution."

Will considered this and, without any other option he could see, decided to agree to it. "Okay. I trust your judgment."

"Excellent. How does Tuesday and Thursday sound?" Hannibal said as he stood up and grabbed a black, leather book—his schedule—that had been sitting on a nearby table.

"Sounds good," Will said with a nod as he looked away from him.

He considered for a moment telling him about the brain scan appointment but thought better of it. He wasn't even sure if he was still going to go. Instead, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, feeling like he could have easily fallen asleep no matter how uncomfortable the chair was.

"If you'd like, you could spend the night here. My home is always open to friends," Hannibal said, breaking the silence.

Will opened his mouth to decline, thinking about how he should get back to his dogs, but then he realized there was every possibility Frederick could be there. "If it wouldn't be much trouble."

"None at all. I'll show you to the guest room," Hannibal said with a welcoming smile.

Will tried to smile back but it fell apart. Hannibal placed a hand on the small of Will's back and led him to a staircase where he then took the lead. Will followed him with the mindlessness of a zombie, matching his footsteps without much care as to where he was actually going. When Hannibal stopped, Will almost forgot to, stumbling in order to avoid running into him.

He watched as Hannibal opened the door, looking into the perfectly made, untouched bedroom. It was too dark in the room for him to see all of the details, but from the outlines of objects, he could tell it was just as needlessly decorated as the rest of his house. There were paintings on the walls, expensive trinkets on top on a short, unused dresser and a matching end table. Hannibal walked in and turned on a sculpted, dark red lamp sitting on the end table, illuminating a small part of the room.

"You're welcome to the room for as long as you need it," Hannibal said, inviting Will in.

Will stepped inside, his shoes sinking into the carpet. "I really appreciate it."

"If you'd like, I can tell you when dinner is ready," Hannibal offered.

Will shook his head. "I don't have much of an appetite today."

Hannibal nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Will exhaled, releasing some of the stress that had been building as he sat down on the bed. He slowly pulled off his shoes, leaving them close by in case he needed to leave, and laid out on his back, staring at the flat, white ceiling. The blank canvas of it stared back, able to reflect his memories and feelings on its empty surface, the silence of the room able to echo the thoughts in his head as if he were yelling them through a megaphone.

He could still hear Frederick's voice mixed in with everything, the calm tone on repeat that only served to set him on edge. Once he was sure Hannibal had gone back down the stairs, he felt alone enough to let go of everything he'd been holding in and his body shook with violent sobs as he thought of every moment he and Frederick had spent together since they were marked. Every moment of it a lie. Every piece of himself that he gave was lost. Will curled up on his side and hugged a pillow to his chest as he fitfully dropped off to sleep.

That night he dreamt of things that made his night hell, that caused him to toss and turn and wreck the perfectly made bed. He dreamt of the flashing lights, the background to set each scene, and he dreamt of when he and Frederick slept together, except he was tied to the bed and Frederick straddled his hips, a scalpel in his hand. He leaned over him and pressed the blade to his head, cutting a clean line across his forehead, opening him up. The whole time he kept calmly talking. _You're waking up now. Waking in a pleasant room. Safe. _His heart pounded hard as he knew what was happening but couldn't do anything to stop it. He tried to scream for help but no sound left him.

He was only given reprieve when a hand clamped on his shoulder, startling him awake. He jerked away from the grip, scrambling to the other side of the bed until he realized the hand belonged to Hannibal. Will pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat until it calmed down. He relaxed, shifting into a sitting position before looking up at Hannibal.

"I apologize, Will. I didn't mean to startle you," he said, sounding concerned.

Will wiped the sweat from his brow and felt his damp curls. "It's okay. I think… I needed to be woken up. I wasn't having a particularly good dream."

"I can tell by the state of the bed. You should come down for breakfast. Even if your appetite still eludes you, you might feel a little better with some food in your stomach," Hannibal said, looking Will over before he left the room, leaving the door open this time.

Will flopped over on the bed, breathing deeply to try and relax. As he did so, as he dispersed his own frantic emotions, he felt Frederick's creep in. Sadness, overwhelming and distraught, as well as worry and stress. He tried to push them away but he knew he couldn't. They would be there always, a constant reminder of the man who ruined his mind. He felt angry with no one to take it out on so he tried to let the anger go for the time being.

He rolled off the bed and tried to fix the covers as best as he could. A part of him felt guilty for crashing in Hannibal's home and leaving the room in disarray but the rest of him found it hard to care. He found it hard to care about anything. Once he was finished with that, he slipped on his shoes and walked downstairs, following the smell of food into the kitchen where Hannibal was working intently. Hannibal visibly brightened when he saw him, making Will feel a little more welcome.

"Will, breakfast is nearly ready. You can wait in the dining room if you'd like," he said brightly as he prepared what looked like gourmet omelettes.

He nodded, smiling a little before walking into the bright, sunny dining room and sitting down at one of the two place settings. He tried to keep himself collected as Hannibal brought the food in and set it down in front of him. A perfectly folded omelette with most likely homemade sausage and two triangles of toast. Hannibal explained exactly what it was as he set the plates down but Will wasn't listening. He just nodded once he noticed Hannibal was done talking and picked at it, eating some small bites and pushing around others.

"What is your plan for today, Will?" Hannibal asked, bringing Will out of his own mind.

"Um, I don't know," Will said honestly. "I would just like to go home."

"Are you sure that's the best course of action? Frederick could show up at any time," Hannibal said, sounding perfectly worried.

Will shook his head and dropped his fork. "I can't stay here, Hannibal. Not with the dogs at home. I'll lock the door and draw the shades and ignore him if he does show up. I just want to start getting my life back away from him."

Hannibal set down his own utensils and stood up from the table. "I understand, Will, and I can tell you'd like to leave as soon as possible."

Relief spread through him, happy to be given leave so he wouldn't have to awkwardly find a way out and away from Hannibal's scrutiny. He stood up from the table and Hannibal walked with him to the front door.

"My home is open at all times to you if you need a safe place to stay," Hannibal said as he opened the door.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," Will said, not looking at Hannibal before slipping out into the cool, morning air.

"I'll see you on Tuesday," Hannibal said, closing the door once Will reached his car.

Will was glad to be free of Hannibal's home but the thought of going back to his own made him more anxious. The home where he had spent the night before sleeping in Frederick's arms after he'd driven over an hour to help calm him down. The home contaminated by his presence. Still, he had nowhere else to go and his home was where he felt most comfortable.

When he arrived there, he found that he was alone, neither Frederick nor his car in sight. However, as he approached his front door, he found a note with his name on it in a familiar flowery script taped to it. He frowned at it before tearing it off the door and crumpling it in his hand. He tossed it in his kitchen trash can once inside without another thought. He didn't care what Frederick had to say, not anymore.

He cared for his dogs and started to clean up his house, eradicating every piece of Frederick's existence from it. He extensively cleaned the dishes he'd used, pulled away the sheets he'd slept in to wash them, and gathered the two shirts that once belonged to him to throw away. Each part of it both hurt and helped him, tearing off pieces of his affection for him and replacing them with clean, open wounds that could take time and heal. The last piece to take care of was the brand new fishing rod, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Instead, he tucked it in the back of his bedroom closet until he figured out a better option.

All the while, he felt the dull throb of sadness at the back of his mind that he kept trying to ignore without success. The one remnant he couldn't throw out. He tried to calm down and bury the bond, succeeding in bringing it down to a mild pinprick to his emotions. From there, he could finally relax in his own home, sinking into an arm chair and opening his laptop to work on lesson plans and take his mind off of the rest of his life.

* * *

He tried to gather his life back together over the next few weeks. He tried to make it so everything was as normal as it used to be, but it didn't quite work out that way. His symptoms continued to worsen, even with Hannibal's extra therapy, and he was losing time at least twice a week, though no one had really noticed. Frederick tried to call him at least once a day and left voice mails that Will promptly deleted. When that first weekend arrived after the incident, the one with the brain scan appointment, he made the choice not to go.

He continued to work the current FBI case when he was needed, continued to go to his lectures, continued to live his life but he found all that was becoming more and more difficult. He started to believe he would never get better, made all the more apparent when a hallucination interrupted an investigation of Tobias Budge for the murder at the theater. Once it was all over, he couldn't tell if it had saved his life or cost the lives of the two officers with him and that ate away at him. Every time he brought up his concerns in therapy, he was shut down and told that it would take more time.

"I just don't understand," Will said, sounding a little hysterical and feeling more than a little angry. "You said you could help but it's been weeks with no improvement. Everything just keeps getting worse."

Hannibal shifted in his chair, managing to keep his cool in the face of Will's accusations. "Frederick had approximately a month to get inside your head and move the furniture around, as it were. Unfortunately, in regards to the mind, it will take a little longer to put everything back. I need your patience, Will."

"I've been patient, but I feel like if I'm any more patient I'm going to end up six feet under. I'll lose time and get myself killed in the process. Or… or kill someone else. God knows what I do," Will said, curling his hands into fists.

"I have the same worries, but I believe we can gain a control over it together," Hannibal replied calmly.

"You keep saying that and I believe it less and less each time," Will said, his voice at a low growl.

Hannibal frowned, looking uncomfortable. "I'm afraid our time today is up, but I will look into more aggressive tactics for our next session."

Will nodded, highly doubting whatever tactics he found would help him at all. He didn't even attempt to be polite as he stood up and left the room, eager to get home, preferably any without mental incidents. Just as he slid into the driver's side seat of his car, his phone rang. He fully expected it to be Frederick, as it usually was, but he always checked just in case. Alana's name appeared across the screen of his phone, prompting him to accept the call.

"Hello. I haven't heard from you in a while," Will said conversationally.

"I know, that's why I was calling," Alana said in a pleasant way that made Will smile. "I was hoping we could get together for lunch tomorrow."

"Absolutely. That sounds like… something I really need right now," Will said, happy to have something to look forward to.

"I'll meet you at the Academy around noon and we can go out somewhere," Alana suggested.

"Sounds great. See you then."

They hung up and Will relaxed into the seat of the car. It felt good to have plans with someone who wasn't trying to use him in one way or another, felt normal. He only hoped he wouldn't have an episode, because with his luck it seemed plausible. As he drove home, he felt Frederick at the back of his mind, a ball of stress and worry just as he had been for the past few weeks. The longer it persisted, the easier it became for him to ignore, but Will noticed a slight shift in emotion. He could tell that Frederick felt relieved and that made Will feel uncomfortable, though he couldn't place why.

* * *

Alana showed up at a quarter after noon as Will was working in his office. He didn't notice her at first, editing the pictures on a PowerPoint presentation, but he looked up as she sat down at a chair in front of his desk. She wore a kind smile and it definitely brightened both the room and his mood. He saved his work and closed the laptop, giving her his full attention.

"So, where would you like to go?" Alana said, her hands folded in her lap.

"It doesn't really matter where. Just happy to get out with a friend," Will said, giving the first genuine smile he could muster in the last several weeks.

"Well, I know of a good place or two," Alana said as they both stood up. Will grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair as Alana looked around. "How long have you had that?"

Will followed her eyes to the mini fridge in the corner and he frowned. "Not long. It was a gift. I'm looking to get rid of it, actually. You interested?"

Alana shook her head. "Just curious."

They left to a small café nearby that Alana swore made the best turkey club she'd ever eaten. Will agreed, not just because he was curious if she was right, but because he didn't care as long he was in pleasant company. They walked in and were seated immediately as it appeared the place wasn't busy just yet. They sat across from each other in small, red leather booths with a cream-colored, linoleum-topped table between them. They both ordered the turkey club and were soon met with the scent of bacon cooking, permeating the café.

"What do you think?" Alana said, breaking the silence that followed after the waitress left.

"It's very… quaint. I like it," he replied with a smile.

"How have you been lately? I haven't seen much of you since I found out about… well," she hesitated, glancing down at Will's right hand.

"Uh, I've been better," he admitted, clenching his right hand into a fist. "I've been… Let's talk about you. We don't need to sour the mood of a good lunch."

Alana looked at him, her brows knitted together, her mouth in a slight frown. He couldn't help but compare it to Hannibal's look of concern, noting how hers felt infinitely more real. "What's wrong, Will? I may not be your psychiatrist, but I'm here to talk about your problems as a friend."

Will frowned, picking at a knick he found in the linoleum. "I don't want to go into detail but I've been having a rough time. Hannibal is trying to help me through it but it feels like none of what we do in therapy helps at all. Whatever is wrong just keeps getting worse."

"I trust that Hannibal knows what he's doing," she said, though she looked a little doubtful. "But, if you give me some of your symptoms, I might be able to give you an alternative option you can slip in as a suggestion. Just to try something different."

Will looked up at her curiously, but she appeared earnest in her need to help. "Well, I think it started with sleepwalking about two months ago. Then the hallucinations, which you know about. And recently…"

Alana opened her mouth to question him further but the waitress returned, setting down two plates each with a large sandwich, cut in half, and a side of golden fries. Will felt grateful for the interruption, grabbing a fry to munch on, but Alana was undeterred.

"What's been happening recently, Will?"

"There might be some slight gaps in my memory as of late," Will said, a little reluctantly.

If Alana was shocked or worried, she did her best not to show it. Instead she nodded, grabbing one of her own fries and eating it as she thought about the symptoms. "What kind of therapy has Hannibal been employing?"

Will shrugged. "It all seems ridiculous and unhelpful. He keeps putting me in some kind of trance state because he says it both of us to access my mind, to find the memories I've been losing. But as far as I know, I haven't regained any of them yet. And he keeps making me draw a stupid clock. He says it grounds me in the present," Will scoffed. "As if that's helped at all."

At the mention of the clock, Will noticed Alana perk up a little, her brows furrowed. "A clock. That's interesting. You don't have to if you don't want to, but would you mind drawing a clock for me? I feel like I agree with you, that exercise wouldn't really help your condition, so I wonder what Hannibal gets out of it."

"Um, sure," Will said, feeling confused. "I don't have a pen on me, though."

Alana rifled through her purse and pulled out a small, metal pen. Will grabbed it from her as well as a napkin from a dispenser on the table. A few seconds later, he'd drawn a clock with the hands displaying the current time, twelve forty-seven. He flipped the napkin around, sliding it and the pen back over to Alana. She looked down at the drawing and paled noticeably.

Will laughed nervously. "I mean, I'm no artist but it's not that bad."

Alana looked up at Will, blood drained from her face. "Will, I think you need to see a doctor. A medical doctor. A neurologist."

Will's face fell and his anxiety rose. "Why? I don't get it. What did a drawing of a clock tell you?"

"It tells me that whatever problem you have won't be solved by therapy," she said seriously. "Will, do you trust me?"

He gaped at her, confused and terrified, but he nodded. Alana pulled out her cell phone and made a call to a local hospital but the sound of her voice and the general noise and chatter of the café faded away until he could only hear a loud buzzing in his own head. Both of their lunches sat practically untouched as Will felt sick to his stomach, unable to string a coherent thought together with the exception of one. _What's wrong with me?_ Ten minutes later, Will was buckled into the passenger's seat of Alana's car as she drove him to the hospital for an immediate brain scan.


	8. Chapter 8

Anti-NMDA Receptor Encephalitis. That's what they told him he had. After that, the next few days were a blur of anti-virals as they tried to put out the fire that inflamed half of his brain. He spent most of the healing process sleeping, having few moments of lucid consciousness he could recall once he was in recovery. When he did wake up completely for the first time, the initial thing that he registered was the weight of someone's hand in his own.

Instinctively, he closed his hand around it, feeling warmth and dampness and worry. However once his eyes started to flutter open, the hand in his disappeared and he heard two pairs of footsteps shuffle away. A door opened and closed a moment later and only one pair returned. Will looked up at the small, sterile hospital room, searching for the face belonging to the footsteps he heard and finding Alana in a chair to his right.

"Alana?" he said, his voice coming out as a soft croak from lack of use.

"Will, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" she said with a small, sad smile.

"Um, I'm not sure yet," he replied, trying to keep his eyes open but he still felt a little groggy and he could feel that he was flush with a fever. "What have the doctors been saying?"

"The inflammation is nearly gone. Once your fever breaks, you should be able to go home," she said comfortingly.

Will nodded, recalling everything that happened to him. All of the hallucinations, the black outs, the sleepwalking had been caused by the encephalitis. But for as many answers as he had, there were still several important questions. One being, if Frederick was in his head, what did he do? And, after all of the tests Hannibal performed, how could he not have known? Will just didn't know what was true or who was worth his trust.

"Will?" Alana said, seeming hesitant. He turned to look at her, his brows furrowed from his thoughts. "There's someone outside who would like to talk to you, if you're willing to let him."

Will frowned, thinking of who it could be when the anxiety at the back of his mind spiked. His frown turned into a scowl and he looked away from Alana. "I have to admit, it's a good plan. Wait until I can't run away. Since when are the two of you friendly?"

"Frederick contacted me a few days before I invited you out to lunch," Alana said carefully, gauging his reaction. "He practically pleaded for my help. He was convinced you had a significant brain problem, told me of your symptoms. I admit, I was concerned, but not ready to believe. But then, Frederick started to apologize for his past transgressions between us and I realized he was different. You had changed him. So I agreed to meet with you just to make sure."

Will shook his head. "That's wonderful for you that you're such good friends now, but no matter what he did, I don't want to see him."

"He's just concerned, Will," Alana said defensively. "He cares about you."

"Well, apparently your new best friend didn't tell you the whole story," Will snapped.

Alana frowned, clearly confused.

Will sighed. "Bring him in."

After she looked him over curiously, Alana stood up and opened the door beckoning Frederick inside. He stepped in timidly, refusing to look at Will initially. Once he was completely inside with the door closed, he glanced up and Will could see the physical extents of his misery. He'd let his beard grow out rather than the cleanly trimmed one he once wore, his hair was disheveled, he still wore a suit but Will could see it hadn't been dry cleaned. His eyes were the worst, the eyes of someone broken. It hurt Will to look at him, so he didn't.

"Will," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will closed his eyes and shook his head. "No."

"I can leave, I just wanted to see that you were okay," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm glad you're okay."

Will could hear his footsteps walking away from him but the click of Alana's heels intercepted him. "No, this needs to be resolved." Will opened his eyes and looked at the both of them. She had her hand hooked around Frederick's left arm and guided him to sit in the chair at Will's side. "Will, explain what you meant by him not telling me the whole truth."

Frederick visibly flinched at that and Will savored his fear for a moment before feeling guilty. "He was inside my head, Alana. He manipulated me somehow because I could hear his voice, over and over, like a tape, telling me I'm waking up in a pleasant room. That I was safe. Psychic driving," he said, looking directly at Frederick when he said the last two words.

Frederick shook his head, looking from Alana to Will with an indignant expression. "I swear on my life, I never did what you're accusing me of. I admit I lied about that to you, Alana, that Will heard my voice and thought it was my fault, but I knew you'd be less likely to help and he needed help. You can't say he didn't. It happened to you, but it wasn't me."

"You may not have caused the encephalitis symptoms but you did something," Will growled.

"I didn't do anything, Will. It was Ha—" Frederick cut himself off and stared down at his shoes.

"It was who?" Alana said, staring at Frederick.

"Go ahead, Frederick," Will said. "Tell her who you think it is."

Frederick stared hard at Will, looking him so deeply in the eye that it made Will uncomfortable. "It was Hannibal."

Will looked to Alana after he said it but she didn't appear as shocked as Will had suspected. She seemed mildly surprised, but it faded quickly. He frowned, glancing from Frederick to Alana, unsure of what to think.

"Alana?" Will said.

"He's been treating you for weeks since your first black-out, Will," she said, sounding like she was in shock.

Frederick nodded. "She's right. He's had multiple sessions with you, no word of a possible medical condition. You spend a half hour with Alana and you're in the hospital, getting the treatment you need. Will, you have to see it," he said desperately. He reached out hesitantly for Will's hand and, in Will's confusion, he let him hold it. "Please."

Through the contact, their bond grew stronger from its weakened state after weeks of Will trying to push it away. Will felt his sincerity and his desperation and it made him doubt himself. "But… maybe he didn't know. Maybe something changed between our last session and the lunch."

"It was the span of one day," Alana said shaking her head as he stood at Frederick's side. "That would be a drastic change."

Will removed his hand from Frederick's before reaching up and rubbing his face. "I don't understand. So, maybe he missed something, but if this was all him, how could he get your voice?"

"Will, psychic driving is sometimes accomplished through tapes put on a loop. I…" he hesitated, glancing up at Alana for a moment before turning back to Will. "I have some of those tapes. I haven't used them… in a while. But the last time I did, they were not all there."

"Frederick!" Alana said in a reprimanding tone.

"Not now, Alana," he hissed, looking up at her with narrowed eyes. She mimicked his glare back at him before he turned back to Will. "I never said anything about it because I assumed I had misplaced them. Plus I didn't exactly want to draw attention to the fact that I used them. Not anymore, though, _Alana_."

"And the last time you used them was?" Will said, feeling doubt, but he didn't know what he doubted.

"The last time you know of. When I promised I wouldn't anymore," Frederick reached out and held Will's right hand between both of his. "I kept my promise."

Will could feel the truth from him, though he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe he'd been so wrong. "How could Hannibal have gotten those tapes?"

Frederick shrugged and dropped his eyes. "I wish I knew. I knew him as an acquaintance back then, a colleague. I'd had dinner with him once before when he threw a whole party but I don't know when he could've taken the tapes. But he did it, I believe he did more than I believe anything."

Will squeezed Frederick's hand tightly, feeling angry and confused. "He did this to me?"

His stress became visible on the heart rate monitor he was hooked up to and Frederick tried to calm him down through the bond, sending him soothing emotions. "He did this to you. Not me. Never me, Will. You said you loved me, well, I love you. You can feel that's true."

Will looked Frederick in the eye and saw that love there. He felt it through the bond in waves. The guilt that Will felt from how he acted for the past weeks flared up but Frederick didn't allow it.

"Will, no. I don't blame you for how you reacted. This is his fault. Every piece of it," Frederick said, and Will felt his anger toward Hannibal like a forge's hot flame.

Despite all of this, a part of him was resistant to it, firm in a belief that Hannibal was innocent. Will slipped his hand from Frederick's and laid it across his stomach. Will smiled weakly at Frederick, who looked worried with his frown and crinkled brow.

"Either you didn't do it or you've gotten good at lying through the bond. You do a lot of it, Frederick. Lying," Will said sadly.

Frederick shook his head defiantly. "No, I can't lie through the bond. I can't. Will, I didn't lie to you."

Will buried his face in his hands, his head hurting and feeling hazy. "Well, someone is lying and I would like it if everyone left until I figure out who it is," Will said harshly before dropping his hands and glaring at the two of them.

Frederick appeared determined to stay, but Alana nodded, though she looked at Will with sad eyes. She grabbed Frederick by the arm and led him to the door, whispering something in his ear as she opened it and walked both of them out of Will's room. Once the door clicked shut, Will groaned. His skull throbbed and ached like it was tearing itself apart. He felt sick and conflicted and he didn't know how to deal with any of it. All he wanted was the full truth but there was no one around to give it to him.

* * *

Frederick didn't return for the duration of Will's hospital stay, but Alana visited two more times. His attitude toward her wasn't cold, but it wasn't pleasant either. They didn't talk much but Will did enjoy the company, though he wouldn't admit it. Hannibal tried to visit multiple times but Will turned him away each time. He felt no desire to see him, not while he was in the hospital for a condition he could've known about. Once his fever broke and he was declared healthy, he was allowed to finally go home.

As they wheeled him out of the hospital to be taken home, he expected Alana to be waiting for him just outside. Instead, a sleek, black car waited with Hannibal Lecter in the driver's seat. Will hesitated when the nurse stopped pushing the wheelchair. He gripped the arms of the chair as though he were thinking about standing, but he really just wished Hannibal would leave, that he wouldn't have to get in the car with him, but he didn't have another choice.

After a quick glance back at the smiling nurse behind him, he stood up, leaving the hospital behind, and opened the car door. "Hello, Dr. Lecter," he said with a frown as he slid into the seat.

"Will, it's good to see you're well," Hannibal said, starting the car and pulling away from the building.

"No thanks to you," Will replied bitterly.

"I'm sorry I didn't see this sooner," Hannibal said with regret in his voice. "I blame myself. I just pleased you received the help you needed."

"You should blame yourself," Will snapped, turning to look at him for the first time, glaring him down. "I blame you. How could you have missed this?"

"I mistook your symptoms for a psychological problem," Hannibal said, turning to him sadly. "I hope you can forgive me. I'm glad Alana saw what I didn't."

"Not just Alana," Will said, looking down at his hands.

"Hm?"

"Frederick saw it long before she did and I didn't believe him. It was for a good reason, but now I even doubt that. Because of you," Will said spitefully.

"Will, he—"

"No, Hannibal. I'm terminating our current arrangement. No more therapy sessions. I'm done with all of it," Will said, staring out of his window and ending the conversation between them.

He could sense that Hannibal wanted to speak more but Will wasn't about to give him the chance. He kept his body turned away from him and didn't even look at him when he parked in to drop him off at home. Hannibal stepped out of the car after Will, following him up to the front door.

"Will, perhaps we should discuss this," Hannibal said calmly.

Will turned around to face him when he reached the door, causing Hannibal to pause at the top step of the porch. "I don't want to discuss anything with you because I can't believe a word out of your mouth anymore. I spent three weeks with you, six sessions, and nothing. You were keeping this from me. I don't know why and I sincerely doubt you're going to explain yourself now, so I have nothing more to say to you."

Will turned away and walked into his house, slamming the front door behind him. He wanted nothing more to do with any psychologists. He just wanted to be left alone. Once he heard Hannibal drive away, he relaxed a little but still locked his door after stepping away from it. He checked on his dogs who had been fed and let out each day by Alana and Frederick and they appeared to be happy and in good health.

He found solace in knowing that he wouldn't be hallucinating anymore, no more losing time, no more significant mental instability. He would be okay. He just hoped he could get the rest of his life back in line as well. He hung up his jacket before going to take a shower so he could wash the smell of the hospital off of him.

In his mind, the restrengthened bond told him that Frederick was feeling better than he had been. Ever since they'd spoken, he felt a little more relieved, though the worry underneath it still felt overpowering. Will really wanted to talk to him, to see him, but he couldn't bring himself to call. It felt awkward after everything that happened between them so he chose to wait a little longer, perhaps for Frederick to call him. He felt like a beleaguered adolescent but he still felt like his emotions and hesitations were valid.

He spent the rest of the night trying to relax and rest like the hospital staff told him to, but it was harder than it sounded. A knot of stress settled in his chest from everything that happened and that he didn't know about. He had the week of classes off for more recovery time but he wished he didn't. He wished he had something to take his mind off of his problems.

In an attempt to accomplish this, he tried to read a novel about World War Two but only managed to get a few pages in before he fell asleep on his bed with all of the nearby lights still on. He hadn't realized the extent of his exhaustion after his long last day in hospital recovery, but every minute of rest helped him heal. It also kept him from Frederick's anxiety, which started to spike around eleven at night and turned into full blown fear. Will's heart started to beat rapidly in time with Frederick's, but even that didn't pull him from sleep. But, a half hour later, his heart grew to a pace reminiscent of a person going into cardiac arrest and Will woke up feeling like he was under attack.

He gasped for air, looking around him for some sort of assailant but he found himself alone. After a few moments, he remembered where he was and realized what he felt wasn't his own feelings. They were Frederick's. Will bounded to his feet, startling the dogs who were sleeping around the fireplace, and ran to his jacket to grab his phone. He dialed Frederick's number three times before he finally got the message he wasn't going to pick up. His mind and heart were screaming that Frederick was in danger but he didn't know how to find him.

He paced back and forth, trying to think, but it was difficult with his emotions running so high. After a minute or two, he realized he could track Frederick's phone, but he would need help. He grabbed his cell phone again and called Jack this time, waiting a few rings before he finally answered, his voice deep, tired, and slightly agitated.

"Hello?"

"Jack, I need your help. Dr. Chilton is in trouble and I need you to GPS track his phone so I can get to him," Will said, speaking in a quick, panicked tone.

"Slow down, Will," he said, sounding a little more awake. "How do you know Dr. Chilton is in trouble?"

"I can feel it, Jack! Through our soul bond. My every nerve is screaming danger, my heart is beating a mile a minute. He isn't picking up his phone. Please, I need to find him," Will pleaded.

"Okay, okay. I'm going to need to hang up so I can make a call to Beverly, she's quicker than I am when it comes to computers," Jack said, in a calming voice.

"Okay," Will conceded as Jack ended the call.

Will continued to pace, the only thing he could think of to do, a mindless act to make himself feel busy while he was, in fact, useless and helpless until he had a location. His hands shook as he glanced at his phone every few seconds, worried he might not hear Jack call him back. Ten minutes later and he really started to worry, as the fear he felt grew more intense. He grew far too impatient and grabbed his jacket and gun, heading out to his car to start heading toward Frederick's home until he heard back. A few minutes out on the road, his phone rang.

"Hello? What did she say?"

"Beverly tracked his phone to the observatory where we found Miriam Lass' arm. Will, we're sending a team over," Jack said sternly.

"I'm already on my way. I don't care who gets there first, as long as he's safe," Will said, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "As long as he's alive."

Will hung up the phone and set it aside, changing his course to the observatory and changing his speed drastically above the limit. As he drove he started to feel numb but he knew it wasn't really him feeling it. That fact only served to worsen his anxieties and heighten his recklessness. If he got reprimanded for his actions, so be it, but he was going to get there in time.

Another ten minutes later, numbness completely set in around his abdomen, making him feel as if he were incomplete, missing pieces of himself. He felt terrified, an emotion from himself and Frederick both, mingling together to become powerful and nearly paralyzing. He tried not to think about it because there was nothing he could do, he could only drive, so he pushed it all away and focused solely on the dark roads in front of him.

When he finally pulled up in front of the observatory, he found he was the first to arrive on the scene. That did nothing to deter him as he grabbed his gun and jumped out of the car, running his way up the steps and to the door. He started to feel faint and he shouldered the door open but he shook it off. He needed to stay alert and focused so he couldn't allow what Frederick felt affect him. With slow, careful footsteps, he climbed to the top of the observatory where they found Miriam's arm, hearing only his footsteps and his slow, deliberate breaths until he was close to the top. Then he heard a familiar voice, talking harshly to someone else.

"Stay awake, Frederick," the voice chastised. "If you fall unconscious, you might drop everything and then how would you feel, hm?"

Abel Gideon, Will realized, spurning him to charge up the last few steps with his gun up and ready to fire. He turned to the scene pointing the barrel directly at Gideon and opened his mouth to speak, but once he absorbed what was happening, he choked on his words. In front of where Gideon stood, Frederick was laid out on a surgical table. His stomach was cut open and his intestines were hanging out, gathered up in Frederick's own arms. Will wanted to gag but he swallowed that reflex down, trying to keep his hands and aim steady. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Freddie Lounds was also there, sitting at Frederick's head, manually pumping air into Frederick's lungs. He had never been grateful to see her until that very moment.

Gideon held up his blood-covered hands in the pretense of surrender, but the smug look on his face said he had no intention to do so. "Well, Mr. Graham. You weren't invited to this party," he said, carefully watching Will.

Will walked slowly forward, gun trained on Gideon's head, until he stood about ten feet from the table. "Party's over, Gideon. If you don't come with me willingly, I'll have to shoot you." He then turned to look at Freddie, a question on his lips. A part of him already knew the answer because he could feel it, but he needed to hear it to set him at ease. "Is he alive?"

Freddie, looking pale and ill, simply nodded to him, too frightened to speak. Will nodded back, feeling his churning stomach let up slightly, though the sight of Frederick's insides lying in his lap kept him well on edge.

"I just have one question, Mr. Graham. How did you find us? Miss Lounds here hasn't had the time to contact anyone. Both she and the good doctor have their hands a bit full," Gideon said with a smirk.

It required all of Will's restraint not to fire a bullet into his brain then and there. "It doesn't matter how. I found you. It's over."

"Does it, perhaps, have something to do with this?" Gideon said, slowly lowering his hand to grab Frederick's right one, shifting it so that his palm was on display for Will to see the black interlocking circles.

Will clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, but he didn't answer. However, his reaction was all Gideon needed to determine the truth.

"I thought as much," Gideon said with a light sigh. "It was certainly an unexpected complication when I grabbed him from his office. The little birdie whispering in my ear forgot to mention it."

Will froze at his words, his grip on the gun tightening. "Little birdie?"

Gideon tutted at him, shaking his head. "Telling would spoil the surprise."

Will could only think of one person who would do such a thing, who would free Gideon and implant such an idea in his impressionable mind. Hannibal Lecter. As the realization hit him, he nearly didn't notice Gideon reaching down to his tray of surgical instruments. His first instinct was for a lethal shot, but he stopped himself last minute. He needed answers and Gideon was the only one who had them. Instead, he shifted his aim a little to the right and shot Gideon in the arm and shoulder in rapid succession, launching Gideon back into the wall.

Once he was down, Will rushed forward, keeping the gun loosely trained on the injured Gideon as he checked on Frederick. He felt sick as he saw the blood that had leaked over the side and started to pool on the floor. His hands trembled as he reached out and placed his free one on Frederick's forehead, brushing the sweat-soaked hair away. He could see Frederick's eyes moving slightly under his closed eyelids and his heart leapt into his throat as he watched his eyes slowly open and hazily look around.

"Oh god, Frederick," Will said, his voice breaking. "I'm here. I'm here and I'm so sorry. I was so wrong."

Frederick's eyes met his and a small light of recognition flickered there. Will felt a spark of happiness and relief from him as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, not caring that Freddie and Gideon were both watching. He was just happy Frederick was still alive, that he had the chance to stay that way.

"How sweet," Gideon said as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up," Will snapped, shaking his gun at him.

Gideon mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Will looked from Freddie to Frederick, who looked like he was struggling hard to maintain consciousness.

"Help is on the way," Will said to the both of them. "They should be here any minute, they left not long after I did."

Will kept an anxious watch over all three of them, fighting against the feelings Frederick was leaking through the bond. Fear, drowsiness, weakness, but he was hopeful and that strengthened Will with hope. He held Frederick's forearm just under his elbow, whispering encouraging words until he finally heard the FBI enter the observatory. He heaved a sigh of relief and called out to them as they walked up the stairs.

"BRING IN MEDICAL. THERE'S A MAN IN CRITICAL CONDITION," he said, his voice echoing through the building.

"What about me?" Gideon said in a mocking tone.

"After what you did, I don't care if they leave you here to die," Will hissed as five agents made it to the top of the stairs with the medical team on their heels.

"What happened here?" the first agent on the scene asked after she absorbed all the details in front of her.

"Dr. Abel Gideon escaped from the Baltimore State Hospital and grabbed Dr. Chilton here from his office and brought him here to do this," Will explained quickly. "He told me all of this himself. I don't know why Freddie Lounds is here. I don't really care. Just help him, please."

As the medical team rushed forward, Will knew he had to move out of the way, but he was reluctant to let go of Frederick. He looked down at him and saw his eyes closed again, his chest rising and falling with Freddie's assistance. He gave his arm a tight, comforting squeeze to say he was still there before he let go and allowed those around him to do their work.

They put Gideon on a gurney first, handcuffing him to it, and carried him out. Frederick was a much slower, delicate process because if they made one wrong move, they would lose him forever. Will didn't know what he would do if that happened. He didn't know what it would feel like in his head, what it would feel like to exist without him. He didn't want to know.

He followed them out of the observatory to the ambulance they were carrying Frederick towards while the agents stayed behind to gather evidence and catalog the crime scene. However, the agent who had spoken to him earlier followed him outside, though he barely noticed. Once his adrenaline started to wind down, the gravity of the situation truly hit him, leaving him stunned, his senses dulled like an overused pencil.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to need to speak with you," she said in a stern voice.

Will shook his head as he watched them load Frederick into the back of a flashing ambulance. "You can talk to me at the hospital. I have to go."

She reached out and grabbed his arm as he stepped forward. "Sir, please."

He turned on her and ripped his arm free of her. "Special Agent Will Graham. That's my—" He paused as his voice cracked, needing to collect himself before he looked into her dark brown eyes. "That's my boyfriend. I need to be with him."

She seemed to pale a little at his admission and nodded, allowing him to go. He stashed his gun in his car because he knew they wouldn't let him bring it. Once everyone else was settled into the ambulance, he hopped in, sitting on a bench next to a paramedic in a position where he could hold Frederick's arm, using his touch as an anchor but he wasn't sure who the anchor was for. The medics worked simply to keep him alive through the duration of the ride and Will tried not to look at the mess of organs still in Frederick's hands. They'd taken a silver bowl with them that looked like it contained a kidney and possibly an appendix. Will tried exhaustively not to think about it, concentrating instead on sending positive feelings through their bond.

Once at the hospital, Will followed Frederick as far as he could go until a pair of hands grabbed him and directed him to the waiting room. The room was large but sparse. White walls, wooden chairs with green cushions lining them along with matching tables strewn with magazines that Will had no interest in looking at. Only a few other worried looking people populated the room, all deathly silent, and Will joined them, sitting on his own, blending into the scenery as he stared down at his bloody hands in a daze.

He didn't keep track of time as it passed, he simply knew it was passing and knew that no doctors had been out to update him on Frederick's condition. At some point, Will heard the clicking of heels on the tiled floor. He didn't look up, but he saw as the person the heels were attached to walked in front of him and sat down on his left. Her perfume was as good of an identifier as any, a sweet, comforting scent belonging to Alana Bloom. She silently slipped her hand into his and he held it tightly as if without it he would fall away into a black hole beneath him.

She stayed with him for what he presumed to be hours, offering to buy him food, which he declined, and coffee, which he accepted with gratitude. Eventually, a doctor with a clipboard walked out into the waiting room, glancing around the room before laying eyes on Will. He approached them and as he did, Will noticed nothing about him except that he would have information, looking at him without really seeing. Will stood up to meet him as he started to talk.

"You're the one who arrived with Dr. Chilton?" he asked, his voice sounding soothing and mildly concerned as if he practiced the voice he used with relatives of patients in his down time.

Will nodded, not meeting his eyes. "How is he?"

"He's still in critical condition but we've managed to put him back together with the exceptions in the bowl that the paramedics brought with them. People can easily live with just the one kidney, so if he pulls through, that shouldn't be an issue," the doctor said in that same tone. It started to grate on Will's nerves.

"What do you think his chances are?" Will said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

"It's hard to determine. He did lose a lot of blood. If he makes it through tonight, I'd say his chances are pretty good."

Will nodded and sat back down. Once the doctor left, he turned to Alana, his eyes glistening from fighting back tears, and she pulled him into a hug. Despite the arms of the chairs between them making it uncomfortable, it was exactly what he needed. Genuine comfort and caring in a world where it seemed so rare to him. In reality, he wanted it to be Frederick. He wanted to be back in his bed that night before the blackout, lying in his arms, but given his current situation, what he had was better than nothing.

"I'm so sorry this happened, Will," she said softly as she ran a hand up and down his back.

Will held her tightly to him for a few more seconds before letting go and sitting back down. "One of the worst things is that this is exactly what I needed to see the truth. Frederick didn't do anything to me. I wish I'd believed him sooner. I'm so stupid."

"None of this is your fault. It's Gideon's fault," Alana said comfortingly.

Will shook his head. "Not just him. This wasn't his idea, he admitted that in the observatory. He didn't say who specifically, but I think I have a pretty good guess."

He looked at Alana with hard determination in his eyes. "You mean Hannibal?"

"I mean Hannibal," Will said without emotion, though he felt anger inside him rising.

"Will, we don't have proof," Alana said, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Not yet, but I'll find it. He's not going to get away with this. Any of it." He paused, turning to Alana. "They'll call, right? If anything changes?"

Alana stood up and nodded. "As long as you left your number with them."

Will nodded before he looked down at his blood crusted hands. He thought of Frederick fighting for his life and he was determined to have justice. He stood and walked off to the hospital's exit, Alana at his heels, as he started to formulate a plan to prove that he was right. He would bring Hannibal Lecter's guilt to light.


	9. Chapter 9

Alana drove him back to the observatory so he could drive himself home and get his gun back. Crime scene tape was still up around the building and a few officers lingered on the scene. Alana tried to talk to him, tried to talk him down from his rage-fueled state, but he wasn't prepared to listen. His vision was dyed a dark, blood red and he was trained on Hannibal.

Still, he knew better than to charge into a situation. He knew that going up against him with a hot head and no plan would yield nothing good, so rather than go directly after Hannibal, he drove home so he could wash the blood off of his skin, cool down, and think. He sat down in a chair with his laptop under the pretense of starting the next week's lesson plans but instead he thought about how he would catch Hannibal.

He realized he didn't know the extent of what Hannibal had done. If he could psychologically manipulate a patient and attempt to murder a colleague it seemed unlikely those were his only crimes. That would put experience and cunning on his side to remain out of suspicion for so long. To Will, that meant he would no longer have the tapes with Frederick's voice on them and there wouldn't be any evidence that Hannibal manipulated Gideon other than from Gideon himself.

All of that left him with few options and even fewer that he could pull off on his own. In fact, he could only think of one, and it was one he needed to prepare for. He closed his laptop and cooked dinner for himself and his dogs, planning to sleep early given how much of it he lost over the past day. Besides, he knew he couldn't do anything until the next day when he had an open appointment with Dr. Lecter waiting for him.

Just as he was crawling into bed, the dogs lying with him, his cell phone rang. His heart pounded as he grabbed it, thinking it might be the hospital. He checked through the bond for Frederick, fearing the worst, but still felt him there, unconscious but alive. Instead, Alana was calling and though he was tempted to ignore it, he answered anyway.

"Have you calmed down now?" she said harshly before he even had the chance to say hello.

He frowned, not wanting to be chastised for his actions. "I have," he replied curtly.

"And you're still going through with it. Will, if you just give the FBI what you know and allow them some time, they'll catch him," she said.

"I think he's bigger than these two crimes, Alana. I think this has been going on spanning years. If the FBI hasn't even picked up the traces of his scent on their own by now, they never will," Will reasoned.

Alana paused, thinking about his words. "You might be right. This all does seem too calculated for a first time. But the FBI as a whole is still better equipped to deal with it. If they need their attention brought to Hannibal Lecter, you can be the one to do that. Although, what crimes could he be committing that no one has noticed?"

Will considered that for a few moments, thinking about unsolved cases, when a horrible thought hit him as puzzle pieces slotted into place in his mind. "Alana, what if he's the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"What?" she said incredulously. "He's involved in some criminally unethical conduct, but outright murder?"

"He just manipulated Gideon into pulling out Frederick's organs one by one. If that was easy enough for him, what makes you think he couldn't kill someone himself? He fits the profile perfectly, you know he does," Will said, raising his voice as the realization made his heart pound and his stomach churn.

He heard silence on the other end and he knew she was being quiet until he calmed down. He sighed, relaxing back in his bed, and she started to speak. "I admit, he fits the profile, but Hannibal being the Ripper is an accusation you have no proof of. Stick to what you know, Will."

Will nodded, rubbing his eyes. "You're right."

"I often am," she said in a way that made him smile, even through the anxiety and anger he felt. "Anyway, if he does happen to be the Ripper, that makes whatever you plan to do a lot more dangerous."

"And a lot more necessary. If I go through with this and do it right, it will save a lot of lives," Will said, the thought of his success burning in his chest.

"If you're even right about this. And if you succeed, at what cost? What are you planning to do?"

"Success requires sacrifice and I'm willing to sacrifice. But, if you're willing to help, I could use it. Come by tomorrow afternoon, I'll fill you in. Then you can decide if you want to play a part, but no matter your choice, I'm going through with it," Will said, sounding just as determined as he felt.

"Okay. I just don't understand why you need to go through with this so quickly," Alana said, starting to sound worried.

"He tried to kill Frederick because I told him I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. I don't know what he wants with me specifically, but it's clear he's not letting anyone get in his way. Once he finds out Frederick is still alive, he'll try again. I need to stop him now, Alana," Will said, his hands shaking a little from the fury he felt building.

He heard Alana sigh a little, a hopeless sort of sound. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"See you then."

He hung up and laid down, trying to get himself to sleep but it was harder than it seemed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax but all he saw in the darkness behind his eyelids was Frederick lying on that table, his insides spilling out. It chilled him and made him sick. The mild adrenaline he felt about what he planned to do the next day didn't do much to help either.

In the end, pure exhaustion took him, but his sleep was fitful. It was fraught with nightmares and worries that kept him tossing and turning and scared the dogs from his bed. He woke up early the next morning in a pool of sweat, knowing he wouldn't get himself back to sleep. All he could do then was to get up and prepare for the day.

He showered and dressed, keeping his phone close by at all times in case the hospital called. As he sat down for a light breakfast he wasn't even sure he could stomach, it finally rang and he swiftly answered it.

"Hello? How is he?" he said in a worried tone.

"Is this Mr. Graham?" the voice of an almost bored sounding woman said.

"It is. This is about Dr. Chilton, right?"

"Yes. Dr. Kerrigan would like you to know that he's starting to stabilize and there's a good chance he'll live," she replied.

Will felt relieved and some of the weight he'd been carrying around lifted from him. "Thank you. Thanks for letting me know."

"We'll call if there's any change in his condition or if he wakes up," she said in a way that sounded like she wanted to hurry the call along.

"I appreciate it. Bye," he said, hanging up the phone.

He left his breakfast forgotten, remembering something else he needed to do. While he didn't have time to speak with Gideon himself, he was sure Jack was going to have someone do it and he thought it would be a good idea to let him know what he should look for.

"Jack," Will said once he picked up. "Have you spoken with Dr. Gideon yet?"

"Not yet but we're sending a couple of the agents who detained him to speak with him today," Jack said gruffly. "Why? Is there something I should know?"

"Tell them to ask him the name of the little birdie who thought it would be a good idea for him to try and kill Frederick," Will said as he paced his living room.

"Are you telling me Gideon didn't do this alone?"

"He committed the act alone but the idea to do it doesn't belong to him. He told me that as I held him at gunpoint. He just never said who it was. Even though Gideon is unreliable as a testimony, it still might be useful evidence if you can pull a name from him."

"I'll let them know," Jack said. "And you let me know if you think of anything else I need to be aware of."

"Of course. Call me if you get a name."

After he hung up, he tried to calm himself down and go over his plan again in his mind, but he found it difficult to concentrate. He couldn't help but think what could go wrong, which was a lot given how quickly he'd put it together and how much it relied on him alone. Still, he knew he didn't have much of a choice and he could only hope, no matter what happened in between, that it would have the end result he needed.

* * *

Alana showed up at his home around two and Will could sense that she was stressed and worried about him. She charged into his home before Will could move aside to let her in, walking right into the waiting pack of dogs who followed her into the living room. She reached down, absently petting the dogs as she stared at Will expectantly as Will scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, what's this plan you needed me to come all the way here to discuss?" she said as she crossed her arms.

Will sighed. "I can't tell you much."

She threw out her arms in exasperation before letting them fall at her sides. "Why not?"

"Because if I tell you all of the details, I know you'll try to stop me," Will said honestly.

"I don't like it already," she said, staring at him in a way that made him feel guilty.

Will collapsed into a chair, rubbing his forehead as Alana's worry started to make him doubt himself. "I don't have another option, Alana. I said that. Everything else will take too much time.

Alana frowned, her expression changing to one of sympathy as she pulled a chair over to sit in front of him. "You really care about him, don't you," she said, taking his hands in hers.

Will glanced up at Alana with a defeated sigh. "I do. And I can't lose him to Hannibal. He failed once, he won't fail again."

"Okay, fine," she conceded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Your role is very simple. I'm going to text you at some point and when I do, I need to you to make sure the FBI is nearby and on hand. Tell them about a disturbance at Hannibal's office. Tell them anything to get them there fast, gunshots, fallen cop, anything," Will said gravely.

"Will, I really don't like this," Alana said, holding his hands tightly.

"You don't have to, you just need to do as I said. Please," he pleaded.

"Fine. I'll do it. For you."

"Thank you," Will said genuinely. "Do you want any lunch? I still haven't eaten today."

She nodded almost solemnly as he stood up and walked into the kitchen where he set to making some grilled sandwiches. Halfway through as Alana sat in the living room with the dogs, his phone rang. He stepped away for a moment, grabbing his phone to see Jack was calling.

"Jack?" Will said as he felt his heart beat faster about what Jack might say. The only reason he would've called is if his agents had spoken to Gideon.

"We got a name," he said, and Will's plan was set in motion.

* * *

Will stood in the waiting room, quiet and patient, until Hannibal Lecter opened the door to his office. He knew he would even though he had no reason to expect Will would be there. Hannibal just checked out of habit and hope and Will was happy to provide a shred of hope. It would make it that much sweeter when he pulled the rug out from under him.

Will turned to face him with a smile and Hannibal smiled back, stepping aside to let Will in as he always did.

"Come in," Hannibal said as Will walked by him. "I didn't expect you to show up today."

"I didn't expect to either, and yet," he said with a shrug as he sat in his usual seat. It felt significantly more uncomfortable than usual but he didn't show his discomfort. He couldn't afford to show any weaknesses.

"How have you been?" Hannibal said, sitting down at the edge of his own seat.

"I've been better," Will said with a grimace. "But I also am better than I was, without all of that brain inflammation."

"At least the problems beneath have the chance to come to light and heal," Hannibal said, persistent in his idea that he'd been helping Will. Will tried not to scoff.

"And what problems are those?" Will said, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his legs

"We'll figure that out together now that we're able to see what was the encephalitis and what is you," Hannibal said carefully, looking Will over.

Will nodded as if that were a reasonable answer. "How are you, Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal cocked his head to the side. "I'm well. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Will replied. "Have you heard about Frederick?"

Will saw Hannibal's eyes widen a slight fraction. "I haven't. Did you speak with him since leaving the hospital?"

Will laughed, a sad, hollow sound. "You know, I didn't get the chance. He's dead."

In that moment, Will didn't see concern or sadness in his eyes. He saw satisfaction. That was all the confirmation he needed. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, settling himself in for the real game after making the first move.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Will," Hannibal said, contorting his expression to perfectly mimic distress. "I know you cared a lot about him even though you weren't on the best of terms. He was your soul mate, after all."

"Thank you for your condolences, Dr. Lecter. I'm sure they come from a place of sincerity," Will said, staring Hannibal in the eye. "The thing is, the man who pulled out his insides piece by piece happened to let slip that he didn't think of the idea himself. Right before I shot him."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed for a moment as though he was trying to read Will's thoughts. "That is truly unfortunate. Do you have any ideas who it might've been?"

Will nodded. "I have a good idea."

Hannibal frowned, shifting slightly in his seat. "Have you told anyone else your suspicions?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Will paused with a thoughtful expression. "I was… curious what would happen," he said, looking Hannibal in the eye once more before smiling.

Hannibal smiled back, the first real one Will has ever seen from him, like he removed his mask just for him. "And what do you plan to do with this information?"

"I don't know. What do you think I should do, Dr. Lecter?" Will said, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands over his stomach.

"I think you're playing a dangerous game, Will," Hannibal said without any animosity. He said it like it was friendly advice.

"We're both playing the same game here. Why am I the one in danger?" Will said, his voice starting to lose its friendliness.

"Because you're playing with only half of the pieces and are sure to lose," Hannibal replied with a little more ice in his tone. He stood up, straightening his jacket and walked over to his desk. "I suggest you forfeit now. Forget everything you think you know and leave. We never have to cross paths again."

Will stood up and turned to face him, walking around the chair so that only Hannibal's desk stood between them. "I'm not forfeiting anything. I have more pieces than you seem to think, _Chesapeake Ripper_."

Hannibal frowned, staring down at his desk as he laid his hand on it. He looked sad for a brief moment. "That is… deeply unfortunate."

Will was about to speak when he saw Hannibal grab something off the desk before launching himself over it. He stood there, stunned, for a long moment before he realized he needed to move or he was going to die. Instinctively, he dodged to his right just as Hannibal landed on his feet on the other side of the desk. He saw a glint of silver in Hannibal's hand, a scalpel he kept to sharpen his pencils. Hannibal lunged at him and Will slid back, moving around the chairs before he picked one up, holding it with the legs out like a shield.

"You are remarkable," Hannibal said as he advanced on Will, staring at him as though he were already dead. "In another life, you could've been so much more."

"I'm content with the life I have," Will said, struggling to keep the chair up as he backed away from Hannibal's advances. "With the life I had. Before you."

"Is that all you wanted out of your life? A teaching job? To exist alone with your dogs until you wither away?" Hannibal said as he reached out with his free hand and yanked the chair away from Will, leaving him exposed. "I had a plan for you."

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not interested," Will said, sounding confident but panicking on the inside. "I love my job. And I'm not alone."

He reached slowly into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out, keeping it from Hannibal's sight. He just needed to distance himself enough to be able to send one text. After a quick glance around him, he ran for the ladder up to the loft area and jumped, catching a rung halfway up. He moved to pull himself up the rest of the way when he felt a hand clamp around his right foot and an excruciating pain in his left ankle.

"But you are alone," Hannibal said as he tried to drag Will down. "The one person you were meant to be with is dead."

Will nearly lost his grip but he held on, trying to pull his body up even though Hannibal still had a grip on him. He felt the scalpel as it slid out of his flesh and the blood as it leaked from the wound. Even though that leg was wounded, he kicked out with it wildly until he connected with Hannibal's head, causing him to let go of his other foot. He pulled himself up the rest of the way at great speed, running on adrenaline to the point that the pain he felt drifted away.

"Yeah, about that," he said as he ran across the loft floor, bringing up Alana's number to text her. "I lied. Frederick is alive."

He ran to the end, hitting the wall, typing out three letters before hitting send. N – O – W. He exhaled, the tense muscles in his back relaxing slightly, when he felt a hand on his back slam him hard into the wall, causing him to drop the phone. Hannibal turned him around so that they were looking each other in the eye. With a loud crunch, Hannibal's foot crushed his phone before kicking it away from both of them.

"So you've done all of this for him? How noble. An insignificant rat like him isn't worth the effort," Hannibal said as he pressed a hand to Will's cheek, cradling the side of his face.

"It wasn't just for him. It was for everyone you haven't killed yet," Will spat, knocking his arm away and punching him as hard as he could in the face.

Hannibal staggered back, momentarily stunned, but as Will tried to run around him, he hooked an arm around his waist and threw him back into the wall. The air left Will's lungs from the force of the impact and a second later, he felt the cool metal scalpel slide into his gut. He gasped reaching out and grasping Hannibal's shoulder for support before he realized what he was doing.

"I admire your courage, Will," Hannibal said softly at his ear as he dragged the blade carefully along his abdomen. "But it won't help you here."

Will wanted to scream, he felt like it should have been appropriate given the situation, but he couldn't make a sound. He couldn't even really feel the pain, not yet anyway. He could feel the warm blood gush from his gut onto his right arm as he pressed it against the wound. He wrapped his hand tightly around Hannibal's wrist, trying to stop him from moving the blade further. Hannibal fought against him, but Will's hand was like a vice grip, so he let go of the scalpel instead and stepped away, letting Will slide down the wall to the floor.

Exhaustion and a sweeping coldness hit him as he sat sprawled on the floor, blood pooling underneath him as he tried to keep his insides in. He stared up at Hannibal with hatred in his eyes and heart while Hannibal looked something along the lines of heartbroken.

"Was it worth it?" Hannibal said, sounding curious rather than spiteful.

Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wanting to sleep, when he heard a commotion in the waiting room. They both turned to look just as the office door was kicked down and Will started to laugh, weak and hysterical. "Yes. It was worth it."

FBI agents poured into the room, holding up their weapons as they scanned the area until they spotted the both of them up on the loft. Every gun trained on Hannibal just as Jack walked inside, looking furious. Hannibal smiled at Will, his face lighting up with pride as Will struggled to stay conscious. He gave himself up with grace, climbing down the ladder where he was manhandled into handcuffs.

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Will Graham and conspiracy to murder Dr. Frederick Chilton," Jack said as he stood in front of Hannibal, mere inches away, with anger in his expression and tone.

Will closed his eyes then, feeling like sleep would be a good idea, but the footsteps thundering toward him kept him from doing so. The next minute, he was being lifted by several pairs of hands and this time he did scream as pain ripped through his abdomen. They set him down and strapped him into a gurney, trying to keep him as level as possible as they carried him down the ladder. He gritted his teeth through the pain until he was back on solid ground and they wheeled him easily out of the building.

Once outside, he was nearly plowed over by Alana who stopped just short of his gurney, walking in time with the paramedics. "Will, oh my god. Oh my god," she said, clearly in shock.

"I know," Will said drowsily. "It was a stupid idea. But it worked."

"It was. It was a very stupid idea," she shouted over the sirens. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"I thought… I might get stabbed?" Will said, still holding his arm over his gut, feeling all of the blood flow out of him as he grew more and more tired. "Didn't think he'd… do this."

"Will! Stay awake," Alana said, gripping his hand tightly enough to distract from his other pain. "You can't die."

He groaned as he was jostled into the back of the ambulance and Alana was back a moment later, holding onto his hand. "I'm not gonna die, Alana."

"He lost a lot of blood but it's a clean wound, easy to stitch," a blonde, female paramedic chimed in as the ambulance headed out to the hospital.

Somewhere along the way, as he listened to Alana's constant stream of words like a trail to follow back to consciousness, he passed out. He had no idea how long he was out, but when he woke up, he was in a hospital room, hooked up to a heart monitor with an IV in his arm. He shifted a little, wincing from the pain, before he lifted up his hospital gown to look at the stitched up wound on his gut. The line was nearly straight along his stomach, stopping a little over halfway across, through his bellybutton. He traced it with his finger gently, staring with morbid fascination, until he heard footsteps coming closer, prompting him to cover himself and pull his blanket up.

The footsteps paused not far into the room and Will glanced over to see a curtain separating him and whoever he shared the room with. After a moment, they continued until Alana stepped around the curtain with a cup of coffee in hand. She looked surprised to see him awake but as soon as he smiled at her, she smiled back. She sat down in a chair to his left and held his hand.

"So, back in the hospital again," Will said with a smirk.

"It's like you're determined to live here or something," Alana said. She smiled but she sounded exasperated.

"Well, I do get a bed and attendants to bring me three meals a day, but I have a feeling the bills I'm accruing far outweigh my current mortgage," Will replied. "What happened after we left? Do you know?"

Alana glanced down at her coffee for a moment. "They arrested Hannibal, booked him, he's currently at the Baltimore State Hospital awaiting trial. They have him on the two counts Jack charged him for, but the FBI is looking into the possibility that he's the Ripper. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone since they put handcuffs on him."

"No? That doesn't seem like him," Will said, tracing the line of his wound through the blanket. "I thought once he was caught, he'd want everyone to know that that Ripper's artworks belonged to him."

Alana nodded, fidgeting with the lid of her cup. Will watched her carefully, noticing the tension and nervousness in her behavior. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

She sighed, not wanting to meet his eye. "Well, Hannibal hasn't spoken to anyone except to request to see you."

Will tensed up, the thought of ever seeing him again making him feel ill.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going," Alana pleaded, meeting his eyes.

Will shook his head. "I'm not. I never want to see him again."

She visibly relaxed at his words and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "Thank god."

"God has nothing to do with it. This scar I'll have for the rest of my life definitely does, though," Will said, absently touching it again. He didn't hate it and he wasn't disgusted by it. It was just there, a newly formed part of him. "Have you heard anything about Frederick?"

Alana brightened, a smile on her face. "About that, he's out of the ICU, completely stabilized," she said as she set down her cup, stood up, and walked over to the curtain.

She grabbed the end and pulled it all the way back, revealing Frederick's sleeping form, one arm protectively wrapped around his abdomen while the other lay at his side. Will lurched up into a sitting position, hissing from the pain, but he ignored it. He was about to move out of the bed when Alana pushed him back down onto it.

"You just got those stitches in, you need rest," she reprimanded.

He barely heard her words, still staring, watching as Frederick's chest rose and fell with his slow, rhythmic breaths. "Has he woken up yet?"

"The nurses said he's had a few moments of lucidity, but none since you were put in a room together," Alana said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "They said he'll probably wake up soon. I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Will said with a harsh laugh. "That's an understatement. He's going to be upset when I tell him what I did."

"I'm sure he'll just be happy you're both alive," Alana said. "I know I am. But I have to be going. I can't babysit the both of you all day."

"You've been checking in on the dogs, though, right?" Will said, concerned.

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand before standing up. "You can have that coffee there if you want it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Will said with a smile as she left the room.

He laid back in the bed with a sigh, watching Frederick as he slept, hoping he would wake up so they could talk. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to account and apologize for. He wanted to hold his hand, kiss him, but if sharing the same hospital room was as close as they would get for a while, he was grateful for that.

Hours passed and Will fell in and out of sleep without much else to do. The small television bolted into the wall didn't carry much entertainment for him and he just wanted to pass the time. At around eight at night, Will heard rustling to his right, startling him from a light sleep. He slowly sat up, moving in small increments so he didn't cause himself too much pain. A low groan rumbled in Frederick's chest as he moved slightly.

"Frederick?" Will said softly.

"Hm?" Frederick replied, turning his head. He blinked a few times, clearing away the blurriness of sleep. "Will?"

"How are you feeling?" he said, concerned.

"Um, thirsty?" he said, trying to sit up as well but gasping in pain. He collapsed back onto the bed and Will nearly leapt out of his.

Will fumbled with the remote attached to his bed and pressed the nurse call button. A few moments later, a young nurse with matching chocolate brown hair and eyes walked in, looking tired but concerned.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking at Will who was still holding the remote control.

"Not me. Him," Will said pointing at Frederick who still looked like he was in pain.

She rushed to his side and lifted up his hospital gown to check on his wound. It was the first time Will had seen it and it chilled him. It was vertical up his stomach, a precise line held close by stitches like his own. He didn't get more than a glimpse before she covered him back up, satisfied he hadn't ripped any stitches.

"Don't move so quickly next time," she chastised as she pressed a button on his morphine drip. "Do you need anything?"

"Some water might be nice," he said, sounding like the pain was easing off.

She left and returned a moment later with a glass of water before leaving again. He drank greedily from the glass until it was nearly empty, setting it down when his thirst was satiated. He laid back in the bed, resting a minute before he seemed to remember that Will was in the room. Frederick turned to him with a confused expression, looking him over.

"Why are you here, Will?" Frederick said, sounding a little panicked. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," Will said, wincing as he turned a little on the bed to face him. "I should probably start it with the good news and say that Hannibal Lecter is behind bars. He's the one who told Gideon to hurt you like that. I couldn't let him get away with it."

Frederick looked stunned. "And the bad news?"

Will's eyes dropped to his lap before he lifted up his hospital gown. "Matching scars?"

"WILL!" Frederick said, his voice strained with worry.

"It's okay," he said reassuringly. "I'm okay. It was worth it."

"How?" Frederick said incredulously as he fiddled with the bed remote until he was in a propped up position. "How is being cut open worth it?"

"Going into a full investigation would've taken ages. More people would've died, he would've gone after you again once he found out you were still alive. This was more efficient. I caught him by letting him try and kill me," he said with a smile that looked more pained than amused. "The FBI caught him in the act and he'll be incarcerated for a long time. Even longer once they find evidence he was the Chesapeake Ripper."

Frederick gasped, nearly choking on the air. "He's the what?"

"The Ripper. It makes sense, though, when you think about it," Will said, lying back down when he started to feel an ache in his abdomen.

"…I suppose. Still," Frederick rubbed his eyes. "This is all too much."

"It's a lot of information, but the important part is that it's over and we're both safe," Will said.

They both lay in silence for a few minutes as Will allowed Frederick to process everything. He tried to process it himself, going over the events of the past few days in his mind. He felt guilty for a lot of what happened, for not believing Frederick, for going back to Hannibal even though he felt something was off about him. He may have an empathy disorder, but he also had some poor judgment, especially recently.

"So, you believe I didn't manipulate you now?" Frederick said weakly.

Will turned his head toward him. "I do. I should have when you told me. I'm so sorry. If I'd been there, a lot of this might've been prevented."

"Maybe. But we don't have a time machine. And I don't blame you, Will. You couldn't have known, the way he was fucking with your head. I blame him," Frederick said, his heart rate rising a little with his anger.

"I don't understand how you can forgive me so easily," Will said like a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling.

"There's nothing to forgive. Except the fact that you destroyed my lawn with your car, but it's already fixed," Frederick said.

Will laughed, but the laughed turned to a groan as it tugged on his stitches. "I love you," he said softly, turning back to Frederick. "I lied before when I said it past tense. Even when I thought you'd used psychic driving on me I still loved you."

"I love you too, Will," Frederick said and he could feel his affection so deeply that it made him smile.

"You know, I thought it would be more difficult than this. Weeks of reconciliation," Will mused.

"Do you want me to give you the silent treatment? I can do that. I've been silent for several days."

"Because you were sleeping," Will said

"That doesn't count?"

Will stifled his laughter and he could hear Frederick do the same until he hissed in pain. "Maybe we should actually rest," Will said as the ache in his gut intensified.

"Perhaps…" Frederick said, sounding tired. "I can't believe you got yourself gutted to protect me. You're so… stupid."

"It wasn't just for you," Will said with a yawn. "But yes, I've been told it was stupid."

He waited for Frederick to respond, but Will knew he wouldn't as he heard his breathing even out. He relaxed in the bed, as uncomfortable as it felt compared to his bed at home, and closed his eyes, feeling Frederick's contentment. He fell asleep soon after and slept a lot easier knowing that he was forgiven and that he and Frederick would be able to continue their lives in peace once they both had healed.


	10. Epilogue

Once they were both finally discharged, Will and Frederick rode home together in the back of Alana's small, red car. They held each other hands, happy for the physical contact they'd been mostly deprived of in the hospital, though Will happened to sneak a few kisses when they were left alone in their room. He was mobile long before Frederick had been, though they both were told to go to physical therapy once out on their own.

When she pulled up to Will's house, Will stepped out of the car first, moving swiftly around so he could grab Frederick's arm and be his stability as he maneuvered himself out onto his own two feet. Will held onto his arm and waist as he guided Frederick up the porch and into the house where he helped him to sit down on the bed. He'd happily taken on the job of caretaker, willing to watch over Frederick as he continued to heal, and Frederick reluctantly agreed. He preferred to be self-sufficient but even he understood his own limits.

"Do you need anything?" Will asked as he shut the front door.

"You know, I could use a new kidney," Frederick said, wincing a little as he stretched out his legs.

"You still have one, no need to be so greedy," Will said, shooting him a look of mock exasperation. "There are people out there with no kidneys."

"Yeah, they're called dead," Frederick agreed. "So I'm halfway there."

Will grabbed a blue throw pillow off a nearby armchair and tossed it at Frederick, hitting him in the shoulder. Frederick picked it up and weakly retaliated, hitting Will in his lower back as he walked into the kitchen. Will laughed, sweeping his foot back so that he kicked the pillow back into the living room. He hadn't needed to ask if Frederick wanted or needed anything, the words just spilled out of his mouth out of habit. Ever since their reconciliation in the hospital, they'd both opened their minds more to each other, an act of trust, allowing each other to sense more complex feelings such as thirst and hunger.

He grabbed a glass from his cabinet and filled it with water, handing it to Frederick when he returned to the room. "I'll go shopping later today for some vegetarian foods," Will said as he sat down next to him on the bed.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Frederick groaned after a long drink from the water. "It's like living in some sort of horror film."

"Attack of the Animal Proteins?" Will said with a laugh. "I think you've experienced a lot worse than being on a restrictive diet. Besides, you won't be going through it alone."

Frederick sighed dramatically. "I suppose," he said as he held Will's hand, lacing their fingers together. "I don't know why you'd torture yourself, though."

"After finding out about Hannibal, I lost my taste for meat," Will said with a grimace.

Frederick nodded, giving him a look of sympathy as he squeezed his hand. Will reached out with his other hand, turning Frederick's face toward him so he could lean in for a kiss. Easy, gentle, and loving since too much movement still caused Frederick pain. Frederick hummed into the kiss as their minds met in a dull haze of affection. He pulled away, grazing his teeth along Frederick's bottom lip as though reluctant to let go, before he rested his forehead against Frederick's. He planned to kiss him again but a pair of paws on his lap startled him from it.

"Hey, Buster," Will said, petting the dog as he wagged his tail excitedly. "I guess they need to go out. I'll be back soon, just rest."

He kissed Frederick on the temple before standing up and walking out with the dogs so he could keep an eye on them. He knew rationally the dogs would've been safe without him, but he hadn't been able to feel completely safe since the moment he heard Frederick's voice in his head, the product of Hannibal's manipulation. He stole a few deep breaths of fresh air, trying to remind himself that the source of all his problems would be imprisoned for a long time. He concentrated so heavily on that one thought that a crashing sound inside the house nearly gave him a heart attack.

He clutched his chest, feeling his heart beat so hard that it hurt. It required a moment for him to register what the sound meant, prompting him to turn around and run into the house and search for the source. He found Frederick on the floor in the kitchen, broken glass scattered around him, and he rushed to his side.

"Frederick, this isn't resting. Quite the opposite," Will said as he knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure," he said, feeling stunned.

Will held Frederick's hands and helped him to his feet, supporting him by holding him around the waist. "You can't be walking around without support like that, not until you're ready. That cane you ordered should be here in a few days."

He could feel Frederick's frustration and he held him a little tighter as he guided him back to the bed. Once he sat down, Will removed his jacket to make sure he hadn't been injured by the glass shards. Will knelt down in front of him, seeing the defeated look on his face, and he felt a pang of empathy. He reached up and held Frederick's face, softly kissing the spot between his eyebrows.

"Frederick, I know you're frustrated, but you're going to get better with time. You're not going to be dependent on me forever. You're also not as broken as you think you are," Will said, holding his hands as he looked into his eyes. "There are some scrapes and chips to the fine china that is you, but that doesn't make you any less than what you are. You're not useless, you just need some time to be repaired."

Frederick's expression softened as Will spoke until he drew him into a hug, his arms wrapped around Will's neck as Will gingerly held his waist. "Thank you," he said at Will's ear.

"You're welcome," he said, kissing Frederick's cheek before stepping away. "I'm going to clean up the glass before letting the dogs back in. I'll be right back."

He grabbed a broom and dustpan from the kitchen closet and swept up all the glass on the floor, taking care to make sure he pick up all of it, before disposing of it in a trashcan. After he put the broom back, he let the dogs back in and the pack bounded into the house, tracking in some dirt and grass before settling down in the living room. Will followed them in, walking over to Frederick where he slipped one arm under his knees and one around his back, under his arms, and lifted him up. He moved him up about a foot and set him back down so that he was lying down on the bed.

"Will, what are you doing?" Frederick said, looking at him as though he were crazy, but Will just smiled at him as he kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed.

Will moved over him so that he was straddling his thighs and he reached up to Frederick's shirt, untucking it.

Frederick groaned, grabbing the end of his shirt to hold it down. "Will, please."

"I've seen it once and you've seen mine several times," Will said, placing his hands over Frederick's. "There's nothing wrong with it."

With a sigh, Frederick moved his hands away, allowing Will to pull the shirt up, exposing the scar left over from Abel Gideon's attack. Frederick flinched a little as Will reached up, tracing his finger along the straight pink line.

"It's hideous," Frederick said, looking up at the ceiling to avoid seeing it.

"It's beautiful," Will said almost reverently. "Because it's a part of you, and you're beautiful."

Frederick looked into Will's eyes, a flush blooming on his cheeks as Will leaned down to press his lips to the scar. He entangled his hands in Will's hair as he continued to kiss his way up until he reached Frederick's neck. Will took care to make sure no part of him was leaning on Frederick's body, not wanting to cause him any pain. He moved up to kiss him softly on the lips before he rolled over to lie beside Frederick.

"I think the most frustrating part of this is that we can't do anything more than kiss for a few weeks," Frederick huffed as Will could feel the heat in his own body.

"It would normally be a rule I'd be happy to break but that doctor looked me right in the eye when he said it," Will said, remembering his cold stare. "He didn't even look at you. He was talking about you and was deadlocked with me. It was unsettling."

Frederick put a hand over his face to muffle his laughter. "Don't be so dramatic."

"It's not funny, Frederick. It was a warning," Will said, seriously as he turned his head to look at him. "That man is very concerned about your chastity."

Will's words only caused Frederick to laugh harder. He held his stomach with one arm, trying to prevent it from shaking too much. Will turned over onto his side, staring at Frederick's red cheeks and tear-filled eyes with a smirk on his face. Frederick calmed down after a minute, taking deep breaths until he could breathe normally again.

"I don't know how I would cope without you," Frederick said, turning his head to look at Will. "This would all be so much bleaker."

"I could easily say the same. But we do have each other and that's what matters."

Will wrapped an arm around Frederick's shoulder, his hand settling at his waist as Frederick gently shifted onto his side, moving closer to Will. Frederick set his hand on Will's stomach and Will knew he could feel the raised line of his own scar just underneath the fabric of his shirt. They laid like that for a long while, content to listen to each other breathe, to feel each other's warm feelings, until Frederick drifted off to sleep, resting as he was supposed to.

The deep, even breaths had a calming effect on Will as he kissed the top of Frederick head, burying his nose in his hair so that he caught the scent of his sweet-smelling, expensive shampoo. He knew there would be a lot of compromises to make in the near future and long, rocky roads ahead, but he was happy to go through all of it with Frederick at his side.


End file.
